Antithetical
by Teletubbies Enthusiast
Summary: After her mother's death, Ruby Rose longed for revenge. With hatred ruling her soul, she had no idea she would become the mastermind behind Beacon's fall. That is if the heroine of Cinder Fall allows it. [Reverse AU]
1. Red Trailer

**Title:** Antithetical

 **Summary:** After her mother's death, Ruby Rose longed for revenge. With hatred ruling her soul, she had no idea she would become the mastermind behind Beacon's fall. That is if the heroine of Cinder Fall allows it.

 **Pairings:** No idea, not yet anyway. I love cookies and cream but...no idea!

 **A/N:** This is a massive AU. I will only update this two times per month. These "trailers" are gonna be long, so brace yourselves. In all honesty, this is the longest _trailer_ , although I'd like to keep each chapter around 4/5k.

Like stated, this is a bit of a reverse AU. A lot of things change, and these trailers will help with the establishment of certain events.

 _ _Antithetical:__

 _ _adjective__

 _directly opposed or contrasted; mutually incompatible._

* * *

 ** _ **-x-**_**

 ** _ **Red**_**

 _ _ **-x-**__

 _ _"Mommy, what would have happened if Little Red Riding Hood had stayed on the path?"__

 _ _"Then maybe__ _ _she would have kept herself and grandma safe.__ _ _"__

 _ **-x-**_

 ** **DAWN****

"It'll just be you and me today, is that alright?"

"Of course, mommy!"

The young woman chuckled, her gaze focusing on the path that laid ahead. It was a perfect day for a simple stroll in the forest. Perhaps there was a chilly air biting and gnawing at their skin, but they paid no mind. The cold winds would not prevent them from admiring the forest's beauty.

And surely, the forest did hold a beautiful and gorgeous sight. The ground was covered in a blanket of pure white. Snow fell from the heavens as clouds adorned the sky and hid the sun. Trees that were now bare and no longer held any leaves surrounded the lone path.

Silver eyes watched from a red wagon. The small child took in the sights, a smile plastered across her pale face. The forest was certainly familiar to her and registered deep into her mind. However, it had never once ceased to amaze her.

Her mother adored nature, so she did too. Maybe it ran in the family like her uncle had once suggested. It wasn't odd to her. No, nothing was weird about her mom's special skill to find beauty in anything (well, most of the time). Seasons could never make them avoid the forest. In fact, winter was both females' favorite season.

There was just something _amazing_ about winter. While many viewed it as a season of struggle and anguish, they viewed it as a time period of peace. The time period after a great tragedy or change, a time period that allowed for a moment of reflection. Winter was the perfect season for understanding where one went wrong and saying what they could do better. A few months in isolation were awful, as her mother had stated, but sometimes, being alone wasn't a bad thing. After all, being calm and at ease was important.

"When's dad getting home?" The girl asked, tilting her head and staring expectantly at her mother.

"Tomorrow." The woman grinned. "Both your uncle and your dad are coming back."

"Uncle Qrow?" She frowned. Her uncle? Right, they were both on a mission. It made sense if they were returning together...Although her uncle usually either just visited on his own (which happened only on birthdays and special events) or if her mom was leaving on a mission.

"Yes, Uncle Qrow." Her mother confirmed.

"So..You're leaving?"

She didn't respond.

 _'So..she is leaving..'_

"I'll leave tomorrow. But! It'll be just for a couple of days. I should be home next week. And besides, you get to pull your uncle into a sleepover!"

The girl giggled. Sleepovers with her uncle were always fun! Sometimes, they convinced her father to join them, which brought even more fun! Minus the puns that her uncle constantly groaned at, of course.

"Okay, mommy! I'll wait for you, as long as you promise to come back." She held up her pinky, waiting for her mother to do the same.

"I promise, my little rose." She held up her pinky, and both fingers laced.

Now with their promise being sealed, the two continued their walk through a winter wonderland.

 **ABSENCE**

"Sweetie, you should eat." Her father's voice was strict and firm, in contrast to his usual cheerful and laid-back tone. He stood next to her, hand gesturing to the plate in front of her.

"But I wanted to eat with mom!" She pouted, arms now crossed over her chest. "She said she was coming back in a week! And a week has passed!"

" _Ruby_."

A groan escaped the young girl's lips. She reluctantly took a bite of her food, looking away from her father. His back was now turned to her, and his focus was directed at her uncle.

They were talking quietly, both ignoring her presence. Uncle Qrow looked worried, and it was pretty obvious that something was troubling them.

"Are you sure?" She heard her father whispered. Her uncle only nodded in response.

"Is something wrong?" Ruby inquired, frowning. Something was definitely off...She was sure of it.

The two men quickly glanced at her. Her father was about to reach towards her and speak, but her uncle cut him off. Qrow simply shook his head at him, before looking back at the girl. "How about we go eat some cookies?"

"Qrow, she literally just started eating her dinner!" Her dad complained.

Uncle Qrow chuckled. "Tai, did no one tell you? Dinner's overrated. C'mon sweetheart, let's go watch a movie and eat cookies."

Ruby laughed and nodded in agreement. She saw her uncle shoot a look at her father as he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the living room.

"Wait, you forgot to bring the cookies!" The black-haired girl exclaimed, turning to face her uncle. The man let out a low whistle.

"Dang...sorry, kiddo. I'll go get them. You pick a movie, alright?"

"Okay!"

Qrow left back to the kitchen, and she began browsing through her favorite movies. She loved all of them, how was she supposed to choose just _one_?

When she saw her dad rush into the room, she knew something was wrong.

"Dad?"

"Quick, go to your room! Lock the door, and don't come out!"

"Huh? Dad, what's going o-"

"Please, just do it, alright? Qrow will come for you, just go hide!"

In less than a minute, the girl had raced to her room. She locked the door, just like her father had instructed her. The next couple of minutes were spent in a mixture of absolute fear and shock. What was going on? Why did she need to hide? Was there someone breaking in? Impossible, they had no neighbors, and her uncle and father were skilled huntsmen. She was also worried about her mother; where was she? Why had she yet to return? Was there a delay? Her job was dangerous and with the weather….

She gazed at the window. Snow was falling outside, and it was probably freezing. Chances were that her mother was in the cold.

 _'But she likes winter…'_

Still, just because she liked the season, didn't mean she was safe and sound from the frigid air.

She heard a scream, and her heart froze. Who was that?! Who had screamed?! There were muffled voices coming from outside, and suddenly, the door slammed open. A raven and a yellow bird flew past the window.

Her uncle stood, crimson eyes holding a glint of fear.

"What-"

"Shh...It's okay."

Ruby raised an eyebrow. She turned, scanning their surroundings. Nothing was out of place…

"How about we stay in your room?" Qrow quietly suggested.

"But what about dad? And what about mo-"

"Your dad's fine...He just needs some alone time. You mom...she's busy."

No more words were spoken between the two because Ruby knew it was best not to press on the recent events. Maybe she was scared for her father and mother and that one scream...But her uncle probably didn't want to share. Her uncle read her a book, and she listened carefully.

 _"_ _Uncle Qrow,_ _what would have happened if Little Red Riding Hood had stayed on the path?"_

 _"Then maybe the Big Bad Wolf wouldn't have eaten her."_

 _ **PATIENCE**_

She stands in front of the door, awaiting for it to open. In a couple of minutes, her mother would surely walk in and hug her, apologizing for her delay. She would have forgiven her and reassured that it wasn't her fault and she would have cried because finally her mom was home.

Her dad would leave his room, and for the first time in days, he would smile. He, too, would hug her mother, relieved to see her.

Her uncle would be witnessing the family reunion from a certain distance, but he would also be beaming.

All of this will occur in a couple of minutes.

All that was required of her was patience.

She could surely wait a couple of minutes.

And she did.

She waited for fifteen minutes.

Then twenty.

Those twenty minutes escalated into thirty minutes, that soon turned into an hour.

Qrow appeared, trying to coax her to go to her room.

She refuses.

She remains still, waiting.

The hour turns into two.

Snow began falling once more.

Night followed.

Yet a lone figure awaited at the entrance.

 **CHANGE**

Change. An event that happens so fast, so sudden, so unexpected. An event that alters the path ahead, taking away and placing certain obstacles ahead. Because of this, the future may seem rather unstable.

For Ruby, her future now remained undetermined.

And it terrified her.

It had been two months since Summer Rose's funeral.

Two months since she stood still, observing her family mourn.

Two months since she burst into tears and screamed at her mother's grave.

Two months since she dashed into the woods, ignoring everyone's cries.

Two months since she simply laid on the ground, tears rolling down her face as her gaze remained focused on the snow that fell from above.

Two months.

Times were still difficult. Her father had fallen into a deep depression and had shut himself off. He refused to eat, and there were times when he would simply lock himself in his room. The few times she saw him, he would be sitting still, eyes unfocused. He would look like he was watching something, but she never knew what.

Her uncle wasn't much different. He too reeked of sadness, and a certain flask would be in his hand.

"What are you drinking, Uncle Qrow?"

"Water, sweetheart."

She didn't know why, but he sure did like water. So much, that he would just sit down sometimes and take long sips of the liquid while she ate quietly.

However, he didn't shut himself off as much as her dad did. No, it seemed Qrow was now in charge of her. He took care of her, always making sure there was food on the table, decent clothes on her, and a roof over her head. He often read her stories, too. And when he would finish, he would stare sadly at her for a little bit. Then he'd slowly stand, saying a quick goodbye.

For two months, her father, with his now dull blue eyes, was isolated from the rest of the world.

For two months, her uncle would take care of her, but always with sadness in his gaze and an empty bottle in his hand.

For two months, her mother, who bore a white cape now drenched in red, remained dead.

And she expected it to remain that way.

That was, until the third month.

Once again, the house was quiet. Moonlight slipped through the windows as she waited for sleep, silver eyes barely opened.

Qrow now lived with them, and he occupied the couch at night, so if she were to walk into the living room, she'd probably get scolded. Her father was still in his room, which didn't surprise her.

She was used to it by now.

Slowly, she sat up. Shifting towards her right, she glanced at the clock. In big, bold, green letter, the time **11:30** flashed before her eyes.

"Great," she mumbled softly, "how am I going to sleep now?"

Everyone else was definitely asleep by now, no doubt about that. On an unrelated note, she could probably sneak in a warm glass of milk and some chocolate chip cookies her uncle bought earlier.

Yeah, that was a good plan!

Ruby stood up, stretching her arms. She let out a soft yawn, a smile spreading across her pale face. Quietly, she headed towards the kitchen.

Qrow was a heavy sleeper, passing by him wasn't hard. Nah, it was easy, actually! Wandering into the kitchen, she opened the fridge. Her small hand reached for the milk. Once she succeeded, she closed the fridge and headed towards the cabinet. She opened it and took out the packet of cookies.

"Wait, how am I gonna warm up my milk without waking my uncle up?"

Well, cold milk was also pretty good!

Holding her glass of milk and a few cookies, she headed back to her room. On her way, however, she was transfixed by a certain sight. Just as she was about to cross the living room, she looked out the window.

There wasn't much snow nowadays.

The seasons changed rapidly in her small home, and winter often only lasted four months. Soon, the golden days of pure white would be gone, replaced by a colorful scene of flowers.

What a shame.

Ruby's favorite season would always be winter.

But it was...odd.

The feeling she had right now, a strange….sadness? Was it? The strange sadness that seeped through her heart, sending shivers through her spine. The same sadness that showed through all the layers of winter, from the moment everything changed, to the moment one had to remain alone in order to get their thoughts together.

It was funny.

Her mother always said winter was a time for peace, not for anguish, nor for pain. No, winter was all about thinking.

Yet...Her mother's words….

They were untrue.

At that moment, she felt something weird. A new emotion in her heart- hatred.

Observing the trees as they moved swiftly while the little snow that covered the ground fell from a peaceful night sky, she couldn't help but feel lied to.

Her mother was a huntress, a bringer of peace, a defender of those who were unable to do so, a hero.

All her life, she dealt with the risk of death, something that was downright appalling to most people. She died as someone who was doing their job, and that sickened her.

Because to most people, that was their duty. Dying in order to protect them. That was indeed what they signed up for, amidst the risks. They placed their trust on regular people, who were forced to adapt and learn to fight.

But for what?

Fight for who?

She felt confused. Tears formed in her eyes.

Die for who?

Because even if her father omitted the details of Summer's death, it was probably caused by her instinct to protect someone. Ruby was aware that some people just wouldn't care. And heck, no one actually did.

Who showed up at her mother's funeral?

No one.

It was just Ruby and her uncle and father.

Who else would, anyway?

Everyone else would be safe, with their families complete. And the huntress' family who saved them?

They would be destroyed and shattered.

In the end, they were only pieces...pawns. Pawns in a sickening cycle. Pawns for a worthless game, a game they would eventually lose.

Everyone was.

Her mother.

Her father.

Her uncle.

Would she be left to wilt in the same? As a mere sacrifice?

"Ruby."

She turned. Qrow's crimson eyes greeted her, worry showing on his tired face. He eyed the food in her hands before sighing. "Kid, it's midnight. Go to sleep."

"But...I can't."

Another sigh left his lips.

"Well.." He frowned. "How about I read you a story while you eat your cookies and drink your milk?"

Immediately, all her anger was gone. One thought stayed in the corners of her mind, yet the child grinned, nodding her head excitedly. "Can you read Little Red Riding Hood?"

"Again?"

Rolling her eyes, she shrugged. "It's my favorite story, Uncle Qrow!"

"Fine." He grumbled in agreement. "Let's head to your room."

The two made their way to Ruby's room. Sitting on her bed, Ruby drank her milk as her uncle began reading, his voice clear and loud. She had long memorized all the words, to the simple descriptions to each line of dialogue. As her uncle read, she nibbled on a cookie.

"Uncle Qrow?"

He closed the book, having now come to an end. Qrow glanced at his niece.

"Yes?"

"What would have happened if Little Red Riding Hood had stayed on the path?"

That same question. Damn, well it wasn't like he could simply ignore it.

"Well then, maybe the Big Bad Wolf wouldn't have eaten her."

 ** **COMMENCE****

It happened in spring.

The trees had now grown its vibrant green leaves, and their branches spread towards the sky. All different types of flowers blossomed from the earth, a fact that Ruby found fascinating. Shortly, the snow was replaced by a blanket of color, differing from bright red roses to lilac daisies. The sun shined brightly, and the heat returned to their lives.

It truly was spring.

Spring, a fresh new start.

And for Ruby, it was definitely a new start.

Ruby Rose was twelve years old now.

Summer Rose had died seven years ago.

And in seven years, Ruby wasn't sure she had fully recovered.

Her mother's memory brought nothing but pain, and growing up, she found herself struggling to understand what exactly was going on. She had long been aware of how dangerous being a huntress was, and yes, she knew death was a humongous risk. Her mother must have known that, yet she continued following the same path that would lead her to her doom.

Did that path lead her to nothing but pain and destruction?

It certainly did.

But Ruby understood things differently now, and her perspective on how it all worked had changed because of that.

'But I feel selfish thinking like that…'

How else could she think, though?

She was a bitter twelve year old with no mother, and a man who pretended his depression never happened as a father.

Taiyang had recovered years ago. Summer left a scar on him, as expected, yet the man changed. She didn't exactly remember when, but she knew everything had happened slowly.

The first time her father left his room, she was six. A whole year she had been alone with only her uncle, and not once she had dealt with her father. So when she saw a certain blond haired man drinking coffee in the kitchen, she had no idea what to do.

Neither did her uncle, who just shrugged and patted Tai's back.

This went on for a while. Taiyang would just drink coffee, then head back to his room.

The, perhaps, seventh meeting led to a conversation. They talked quietly, jabbering about recent events. Ruby commented on a school project; a family tree to be precise, and her father nodded, brain surely working on creating a perfect project.

The next day, he made dinner. Her uncle, who had a quick mission, arrived late and was surprised by the sight of Tai eating with his daughter. The duo laughed at his reaction, before beckoning for him to join them. That night, they worked on Ruby's project, with Qrow bragging on his expertise on folding and gluing papers while Taiyang hummed to himself, hands quickly arranging pictures, descriptions, and stickers Ruby insisted on putting. Meanwhile, Ruby was busy trying to write the words her father listed on construction paper.

"You know, I wish I had a sister…" Ruby said softly, eyes turning to her finished project, It wasn't bad, no, but it seemed like it lacked something. She had her mother (which made her want to start crying) and father, and an arrow from her mother's side to her uncle, because both of them were siblings. And lastly, there was a picture of her. But it would be nice, she guessed, if she had a sister.

For some reason, the pained look on her father's face upon the mention of a sister would haunt her for years.

Ever since then, Taiyang apologized. He said he should have never shut himself like that, and Qrow tried comforting him. In the end, all three ended up in a hug group, tears falling from their eyes.

And that was all she remembered.

Afterwards, everything was nothing but happiness.

Her father was back, and her uncle stayed with them. She grew up, slightly spoiled by both, and set her eyes on becoming a huntress.

But for a different reason.

Taking a deep breath, the preteen slowly walked towards the kitchen. She was soon going to turn thirteen, an age that would mark her start for teenage years. And now, more than ever, she needed them to help.

"Train me."

Her relatives looked up from their food. Qrow raised an eyebrow, frown on his face.

"What did you say?"

Ruby faltered for a moment. "Y-You heard me...Train me."

Taiyang groaned, hand rubbing his eye. "There she goes again.."

"I'm twelve!"

"And we trained you for your age."

"But that's not training!"

Taiyang taught her the basics. Things like aura and semblance were something she had long before studied, but her father insisted on her learning and memorizing everything about the two topics. Her uncle took quite a pleasure in teaching her about creatures, boasting about how this information was given to her earlier than expected. She also learned about the kingdoms, and how most of them worked. She learned about the ongoing controversy surrounding Atlas and their training and faunus.

She was also given certain tasks. Exercising an hour each day, running a mile a day in order to strengthen her semblance; speed, maintaining a healthy diet, things like that.

And yes, her father tried teaching her how to properly fight. But Tai's reckless way of doing so was awkward, and it didn't feel right. Qrow suggested he'd try, but he never actually did.

Today, that would change.

"Ruby, it's 10:00 A.M. Let me have an hour of peace."

"But Uncle Qrooooowww!"

He grumbled in response, taking a sip from his flask. "The more you insist, the less likely I'll do it."

"You were always my favorite uncle..."

"I'm your only uncle, sweetheart."

The dark haired girl glared. "I'm gonna go through my rebellious phase earlier then.." She warned slyly. "Y'know, those good years of teenage angst."

"Oh my god please don't. Qrow train her, please."

Qrow shook his head, sighing. "Ruby.."

"Uncle Qrow..."

"Look, kid, everything we do is for your safety. We have trained you, maybe not for combat, but we have given you the basics. You're still young, understand that."

A groan was heard from the young girl. She frowned, tilting her head to the side. "But I don't think it's enough! If I want to go to Beacon, then how-"

"Everything takes time, kiddo. You still have around five years to learn, and you will. Trust me."

"But what if in those five years, I don't impro-"

A sudden burst of laughter interrupted her. She glanced at her uncle, who was holding his stomach and laughing.

"Qrow.." Her father's voice cut in.

"Oh, Taiyang! This kid over here! She thinks she won't improve!" He pretended to wipe away tears. "You have the most badass team to ever graduate Beacon as a family, and you think you won't improve! This is too fucking rich..."

"Language!"

Rolling her eyes at Tai's input, Ruby sat down. She grabbed a leftover cookie from the table and chewed on it.

"So...that's a…?"

"How about...the day after your birthday, kid?"

The loud, high pitched squeal that Ruby let out that day made Qrow Branwen realize how much regret he would feel over the next couple of years.

 **COMPANY**

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to Ruby, happy birthday to you!"

The now thirteen-year-old blushed furiously at the scene developing before her eyes. In front of her, there was a medium-sized, rectangular, red cake on a silver tray. The words, "Happy Birthday, Ruby!" and the number, "13" were written with white icing on the obviously homemade cake. Her father held the tray, while her uncle stood by the doorway, a grin on his face.

"Daaaaaad!" She let out a childish whine.

"I can't believe my daughter's thirteen!" Taiyang exclaimed, tears filling his blue eyes. "You've grown up so fast!"

"Tai, don't cry on the cake. It took me years to make that thing."

"The one you made got burned, remember? All you did was go to the store and get a cake, but then that one got-"

"Taiyang."

"We made the cake together, well I did, you just read the instructions and then you fell asleep, reme-"

"Don't bore her with the details on how the cake was made," the other man spoke, "Just let her enjoy her birthday."

Scoffing, the blond turned back to his daughter. "Ruby, blow the candles."

Without a second thought, Ruby kept a wish in mind. Eagerly, she blew the thirteen pink candles gently.

"Thanks for making the cake, dad!" She grinned. "Oh, and you too, Uncle Qrow." She stated before her uncle could complain about the lack of recognition.

"No problem, kiddo." Qrow smiled softly.

"Anything for you, sweetheart." Tai responded, sharing an almost identical smile to Qrow's. He set the cake on the drawer nearby.

Rubbing her silver eyes, Ruby yawned softly. She stood up, her eyes darting to the clock nearby.

 **9:30**.

Well, at least it wasn't extremely early. It was also a weekend, a perfect day to sit back and relax. Knowing her father, that was probably not going to happen.

"So...cake for breakfast?"

In less than twenty minutes, the trio had already made their way set the cake on the kitchen table, while Qrow prepared chocolate milk and coffee.

The teenager was enjoying the tasty treat- a perfect mix of both chocolate and strawberry. Gosh, her dad was definitely a good baker. She hoped he could teach her how to make chocolate chip cookies in the future.

She took a sip of her chocolate milk.

Unexpectedly, there was a knock. And then another.

"I'll get it!"

"Ruby, wai-"

Before her dad could fully protest, the dark-haired girl had opened the door.

When the door opened, she expected to be greeted by one of her relative's friends. Maybe they'd wish her happy birthday, maybe they'd have a gift to give. Ruby wasn't sure what exactly she had been expecting, but she definitely did not expect to find absolutely anyone.

"Huh?"

Nothing. She shrugged, guessing she had accidentally heard something. Ruby was about to close the door when something yellow caught her eye.

A small box stood in front of her. It was wrapped in yellow and tied with a purple bow. Cautiously, she picked the present up.

"For, Ruby Rose."

"Umm dad, there's a gift on the-"

Almost immediately, her father had snatched the gift from the girl's hands.

"Dad!"

"Qrow, come quick!"

"I'm here." Her uncle grumbled. Qrow's crimson eyes shifted towards the gift in Tai's hand, and he blinked.

"It's a...gift..?"

"But from who?"

Frowning, both men examined the gift. The box wasn't heavy, it was, in fact, quite light. Maybe it was a piece of clothing...? But from who?

Ruby had grown anxious with each passing second. Grabbing the gift from a distracted Qrow, she tore the paper off carefully. The box was brown and dull, and she opened it without hesitation.

"It's a cloak...?" Pale hands held the silky fabric up, a red cloak coming into full view. Blinking, she let out a gasp at the softness of it. She tried it on, ignoring her father's protests.

The gift was a tad too big for her petite frame. Yet, in that instant, she adored it.

"I love it!" The dark-haired girl squealed in delight. "I _love_ it!"

Draping the hood over her head, she spun eagerly as if modeling the article.

"Huh...?" There was a note on the bottom of the box. It was yellow, and the writing was neat and tidy. It was unlike Ruby's and almost reminded her of her mother's writing.

Her guardian peeked over her shoulder as she bend down to pick the slip up.

 **"Dear Ruby Rose,**

 **Happy birthday! Your mom loved you so, so much, she asked me to make you this! Anyway, hope you enjoy being thirteen!**

 **Love ya!"**

 _ **DECISIONS**_

Ruby kept the cloak.

In retrospect, the note had only made her want to keep it more. Had her mother prepared this gift? If so, gosh, she was in love.

She didn't wear it every day, only on special occasions. Taiyang had tried bribing her into taking the damn thing off, but refusal was all that left her lips. Qrow had let her, insisting it was her little way to remember her mother.

As for the gifter, who knew?

Her parents did, for sure.

Puberty was skipping past Ruby without a glance. A terrifying fact, surely, because she hadn't been growing at all! She was short and skinny and awkward- but her voice still cracked and godamn why was acne a thing?

Uncle Qrow knew about skincare, so on one side, she was saved.

Everything else...no.

He had been training her, too. That and she had started classes at Signal Academy, where both of her guardians were respective teachers. Although only a month had passed, the students were preparing to build their own weapons. Ruby was excited about that!

She had spent her summer making blueprints, admiring her uncle's weapon and settling on a scythe. Guns were cool, too! It was so hard to choose, but she had six ideas to choose from.

On an unrelated note, classes were also good. Home was good. Life was good.

Until she found herself in her Humanities Preparation class, which was a class focusing on actual life. It was an elective that her own father had to teach.

Tapping her pen against her notebook, she growled as the teacher wrote out a prompt on the chalkboard. He then turned, the man grinning from ear to ear.

"Let's discuss!" Taiyang was enthusiastic in class, albeit a bit tired from last night's family games. "C'mon kids, it's a mandatory essay. That and I like my other classes better."

The teenagers scoffed in response, some rolling their eyes and others booing. Ruby shook her head, praying her dad would spare her from the chaos of a class discussion.

"Why do you all want to be a huntress? Hmph?" The blonde looked around. "Ruby!"

She cringed.

"What's your reason?"

Feeling all eyes on her, she bit her lip nervously.

"Well, I..." Her cheeks turned a bright shade of red, but her father gestured for her to continue. "I wanna be a huntress to help. People. "

"Elaborate."

"Uh...I wanna help families. I guess, my own mom wanted to do that. And so do I, and I understand that if I can take a sacrifice and help save someone...Then that works for me." She finished her speech with a grin.

Taiyang smiled, turning his back to the class.

"Excellent!"

The response was gross. She detested the idea of other people being helped...And her mom? Gosh, her poor mother fought for a life that was saved, yet she did not earn one ounce of respect! She loved Summer to shreds and everyone knew that.

But she couldn't think like her!

She felt...wrong. Disgusting. Gross. Guilty. Why did she want to be a huntress? What was the point? What was the irking sensation of hatred running through her veins?

 _"I want to watch them burn."_

For the first time, the fourteen-year-old would admit it. To herself, and soon to the world.

 _ **EYES**_

"You have silver eyes."

It's a school night and Ruby ignores that for the sake of the dinner with huntsmen. They were all from Beacon, some laughing and hollering over memories. Her father was there, and Qrow was drunk. She frowned, fingers curling around a bottle of water.

There was an old man who send shivers down her spine. He smiled at her, eyes piercing her soul.

"...Thank you?"

"No." The man coughed, shaking his head. "Your mother had those eyes."

" _Ozpin._ " Taiyang had cut the strange lad off.

He had come in and set a plate of cheesecake down. It was glazed with strawberries- her ultimate favorite food.

"Taiyang." Ozpin, as he was called, stood. He shook his hand, looking away from Ruby. "I am honored to have been invited to your reunion. You have all turned to be fine scholars."

"I-"

"But I must go." With a quick goodbye to the group of men, he grabbed his coat and left.

 _Silver eyes._

Ruby stared as he walked away, wondering what exactly it meant.

 _ **YANG**_

Vale was her favorite place to stop by. Her dad had a meeting in Beacon's walls, but she refused to step ground in a place filled with lost potential. The girl twirled her hands, in love with the feeling of metal against her skin. It was soothing to her, and her weapon only comforted her more.

Breathing, she came to a halt.

Tiger claws were weapons she once feared. Back then when she was barely starting to train, she figured scythes were better for her. Her uncle's tool made her feel powerful, even from a far distance. That and she was a clumsy fighter.

Somehow, improval was naturally fast for the young girl.

Ruby could fight. Hell, she was a bit too well at it for her father's liking. Both men had taken interest in hand to hand combat, insisting it was fundamental for her.

The tiger claws then became a bit of a priority rather than a scythe. The girl had made several adjustments, deciding to optimize the blades. Rather than just awkwardly sticking out, she chose to have an option where she could press a button and hide them away.

Oh, and the claws were also miniguns.

 _Dust infused guns._

Gosh, Ruby Rose was a bit of an extra person. Not a bit, the most extra person out there.

The sense of satisfaction left her mouth upon the sound of shrieks and screams from the public.

Turning to face the danger, she watched as a short girl with multicolored hair raced through the crowd. In pursuit was another girl, who was taller and had a more muscular build.

Her second thought was that the other carried a sword and _holy fuck_ was it cool.

"You!" She was a blonde wearing a...mask? "Don't think you can run!"

The girl let out a squeal. She hurried instead, looking away and bumping into Ruby.

"Get off!" She pushed the strange girl aside, glowering.

"Well, don't just stand there!" The masked one hissed at Ruby, almost as if she had been gazing at the weapon on her hands. "Get her!"

If anything, Ruby was beyond confused.

She followed the Neapolitan-schemed girl (what even...?) and drew her tiger claws. There was a satisfying _Clink!_ when summoned and she mustered her strength. The girl who requested, quite rudely, her assistance was seemingly strong, but not fast.

It was a miracle her semblance was speed.

Rose petals whirled in the wind as she caught up to her prey. The girl stopped in her tracks, unsheathing her own weapon and staring at both teenagers with rage in her pink and brown eyes.

 _Ribbons...?_

And so the three danced.

The ice cream (that was it, that was her name now) twirled gracefully, tossing the weapon towards Ruby. The ribbon glowed red, leaving a trail of fire that Ruby narrowingly managed to avoid. The girl with the Grimm mask stepped forward, carrying her sword and swinging it at ice cream.

Ice cream avoided it, instead throwing another band at her direction. It glowed white this time, and the ground turned to ice.

"There's no use in just attacking," Ruby spoke up, loading one of the pistols. It was done with another button, along with a bullet and a bit of dust that she had to load into another slot. "Her ribbons are dust infused. If we can get them away from her, maybe we stand a chance."

"Understood." The girl's voice was cold, almost cruel. She couldn't see her face because of the mask, but she wondered how she looked.

Her partner charged once more, bringing her weapon towards their rival's abdomen. She easily jumped and Ruby fired a bullet towards her landing spot. It froze and rather than landing smoothly, she slipped as the black-haired girl fired again.

Ice cream lost grip of her ribbons and the silver-eyed trainee saw a chance.

She lunged, tucking her blades away just in time to jab at her opponent. The girl fell, and Ruby hovered over her, pinning her down.

There was fear written over her face and Ruby loved it.

"Now," Panting, she glanced at the masked stranger. "What was all this about?"

"Let her go." That was not the response she had been looking for. Almost disappointed, she stood and allowed ice cream go.

Shakingly standing, she picked up her ribbons and fled.

"Then what was the point?!"

She took off her mask, and silver eyes met lilac. The stranger was _pretty-_ her face was clean and soft, eyes holding a charm of mystery and wild curls framing her head.

It hadn't come to her that she was significantly taller. Her outfit also made her seem more mature, in comparison to her childish outfit. She only kept it for Tai's sake, anyway.

The long, black pants she wore and yellow coat made her black combat skirt look silly. The stranger looked professional, Ruby did not. There was a pang of jealousy for a bit until she started talking.

"Those are just gang members." She sighed, tossing her hair aside. "They terrorize first-year students."

"Students of...?" Ruby raised an eyebrow.

"Beacon."

"Ah." Her voice wavered. "You're one of those...people."

"Uh." At this point, the conversation went downhill. "Well, I'm starting in two weeks time, and I've never been in Vale."

The air had, for ominous reasons, become colder. Ruby tugged at her signature cloak, shuddering.

"Well, I know some nice places." Why was she being so nice? "I can give you a tour if you'd like."

Blinking, the visitor nodded.

"That sounds...nice." She stretched out a gloved hand. "Oh, my name's Yang. Yang Branwen."

"Ruby Rose."


	2. White Trailer

**_-x-_**

 ** _White_**

 ** _-x-_**

 _"What would have happened if Snow White had never been beautiful in the first place?"_

 _"You already know, it's the nightmare you're living each and every day."_

 ** _-x-_**

 **IRA**

There were tales and stories she devoured effortlessly at some point, strands of white shielding her face from the horror of her victims. It was the natural expression many had- mostly children- when they gazed awkwardly at her face.

Her face was the mixture of sadness and grief. There was a fire that burned her skin, the itchiness and agony painfully lingering on her pale face. Even after the fires had roared and roared, the ashes remained forever. Sickeningly, there were scars and bruises and burns- a terrifying combination of all.

Sometimes, the abandoned child hesitantly wondered what would happen if she were Alice. If there was a way to loosen her grip on reality and float away like the Cheshire cat, or dare she say, lose her head to the red queen, she would take the shot without second thoughts. Yet she was born to the wrong fairy tale- plunged into the opposite world of a once fair princess.

There was nothing but wrath left for her dark heart to conjure.

 _Breathe._

She couldn't breathe, the smoke from her flame threatening to silence her screeching lungs. It wouldn't die, no the flames could not extinguish her rage.

Her intentions were to rage and rage against the dying of the light, albeit the flames would be the last thing she'd succumb to.

Somehow, someway, the flames died. Her anger was turned into sorrow and despair, the crushing defeat of the world weighing on her thin shoulders.

 _Breathe._

She was not fire.

She became ice.

Then the ice shattered into a million tiny pieces, and the shell of a girl was left behind, helplessly attempting to gather the shards.

 **SUPERBIA**

The moment the Schnee Dust Company declared bankruptcy, she knew her destiny had been sealed.

For one last time, Weiss stood in all her powerful glory. A face too young for makeup, her maids had attended to her hair instead, curling it until each strand bounced when she stepped forward. There was a tiara of twinkling diamonds in her hair, and one sneaky maid gently applied a coat of lipgloss for the sake of the girl's wishes.

She was a beauty queen, a ballgown hugging her slim body. It was white and blue, flowers embellishing the bottom of the fabric. There were gloves of the color of white, innocently tugging at her hands and refusing to let her hold any dirt. She had been the heiress once, and the ten-year-old was told to never let that die.

It was her birthday, and rather than a grand luxurious dance in her honor like past years, she had a quiet dinner with her family. Papa Schnee, Mama Schnee, Winter, and Whitley- along with the maids and butlers who whipped out dishes for each and every one of them. Chinese food was her favorite, so she was excited to taste exotic foods for her prized celebration.

Dinner began with no mentions of her birthday, rather it was oddly quiet. They ate in silence, sensing the presence of the oldest male in the family.

The moment they heart a loud blast and a commotion of screaming, their hearts froze.

When Weiss Schnee turned ten, her father had murdered himself with a shotgun. The weapon was a distance away from his body, crimson blossoming from his chest and ruining his elegant suit.

Life had gone to hell, yet her pride made her bite her tongue at the need of assistance with soothing her trauma.

The family lost their mansion, and while her mother hustled deals with other wealthy members over the price of their jewels and clothes, Weiss read to distract herself from her harsh reality. Winter, her oldest sister, was rather busy running, always running from her problems. Whitley had never changed, only this time, the boy had gone mute.

They lived in different places- shacks, hotels, the streets on bad days. Her mother would work day and night as a waitress the first and last time they actually settled. It was a shack, stripped from any luxurious marble floors and elegant chandeliers that made her head spin with dreams and hopes. It was ugly and remote, lacking anything that made them the Schnee's.

"Mother, why have you dyed your hair?"

One day, Mama Schnee brought boxes of drugstore dyes and cried and sobbed as she slowly began the process of washing away her white locks. Blond replaced it, though Weiss thought it was quite awkward and did not suit her well. Winter said it did, and Whitley only walked away.

"Schnee's are known for their white hair." Her mom stared sadly at her. "And I am no longer a Schnee."

Helplessly, the ex-heiress watched with worry as her mother left one night with a strange man who looked at her weird and never came back. Before her mother's worrying disappearance, Winter had left at some point. She claimed her mother was shipping her off to a public boarding school to decrease their spending needs.

She wasn't sure what that meant, but she would miss her older sister greatly.

Her twelveth birthday was spent in silence.

Whitley was nine and was worried about his toy trucks. They occupied his spare time, along with different books he picked from cleaning neighboring houses.

She didn't know how to run a home, much less take care of her own self. She learned over time, improvising and hopelessly praying to a God that never seemed to answer.

Her mother had been a good woman. Sure, she left and never returned but she had taken care of them the most she could! She worked at bars and diners, mostly never coming back till three in the morning before leaving at five. All her jewels had been sold and their fine clothing had been traded for other goods, even if they did not earn as much as they had hoped for.

People laughed and laughed at them. Civilians gawked as the family strolled through the streets, many hollering at how they had all fallen from grace. Her mother kept her chin up and so did Weiss.

They were merely fools, puppets of a man who committed suicide in order to escape their fate. Sometimes, she had ached for her father to have had a bigger heart and taken them with him.

She didn't have connections to Winter, either. She had no idea what the name of her so-called school was, and Weiss realized that perhaps it was best to just leave her alone. The elder had always been distant from her family.

As for Weiss, she wasn't sure how to feel. She worked endlessly as a maid and cleaned houses with Whitley. On weekends, they would head to Atlas' famous plaza and shine shoes. Money was scarce, but some folks were kind enough to treat them to food.

Because of her tired and frail body, she found no time to think of the boiled up anger and pent-up frustrations she bore. The weight of her survival and her brother wore her out and it was her sole focus.

Prideful, she was. A fool, maybe. But nonetheless, Weiss Schnee was too proud to admit she was drowning in debt and sorrows and needed help.

Then maybe if she had shown weakness, she wouldn't be in her current situation. Oh, over her Whitley's corpse she would dare do that.

It would happen. Madness had haunted her since the beginning, and now he was making himself know.

Pale hands placed the container of gasoline down, the poorly lit room soon to be engulfed in sparks of her anger. If she were to die, this would be how.

Whitley was snoring softly, the nine-year-old tugged on his bed and hugging a teddy bear Weiss had stolen from him the other day. The thought that he would probably sleep through this was the only thing that mattered to the ex-heiress.

In her hand was a match. And with a flicker and a move of her fingers, the match was lit and thrown into the room.

At that moment, the flames became known. They were hungry, taking and taking the little shack as they knew it. The fire started small, eventually taking the entire shack.

She was fine with it. She stood in the midst of her glory, and she was okay with it. Yet the moment she heard him for the first time in years, horror surfaced and she lunged into action.

"Weiss? What's happening?!"

She swooped forward, ignoring the agony of her body in glares. Grabbing her brother, she attempted to carry him out the shack but failed miserably. The smoke had become thick and dark and she knew how they would die.

The fire roared with passion. Wood from the shack rattled and burned, some falling. A piece fell with a _whoosh_ and threatened to land on them, yet she held her hand upwards and sheltered Whitley with the other.

They would die, she knew.

There was no sound of impact from the wood. Instead, there was a marvelous design in the middle of the air, carrying the killer piece away from them.

"Is that a glyph?" Whitley asked, eyes wide in amazement. "Sister, you summoned that!"

Her fighter instincts took charge. She wouldn't die here, even if it killed her to move. No, she'd leave and rise from this hell and venture into a world free from her sin.

She doesn't know how she ran or recall the pain of her joints in action. She doesn't remember the seconds she decided it was right to attack for her life, not even when she tried or in her dreams that cradled her to sleep.

The fire gnawed at her skin, screeching and crying for her attention. They took her life away, causing her to succumb to the ashes of her.

Pridefully, she watched with her brother in tow as the fire gorged her home, a spark of bravery lighting inside her like nothing before.

 **AVARITIA**

This was the wrong fairy tale, she was sure. This could not be her life, oh it could certainly not.

Yet here Weiss stood, a makeup brush in hand and a cheap bottle of foundation in another. It was the lightest shade she could find for her skin and that itself was worth a trophy.

Hesitantly, she placed more foundation on her face and blended it out. Next came concealer, and she took extra care to cover the ugly scars and burns from the deadly fire.

A year had done nothing to hide the ashes she wished to cleanse her body from. The damage was done and their world, once again, took another turn for the worst. Although, unlike before, there was a spark of courage in her that lit the way to a better life. Slowly but surely, she would get there holding Whitley's hand.

"Please give all your attention to one of our most talented singers, Stellar Dendrites!"

The diner was crowded- though her nerves and ongoing ball of anxiety had been pacified before she even stepped on the stage. She had learned to adjust to this life of a dazzling amateur singer, offering cheap entertainment to hungry clients.

Observing maids rush through the large shop carrying menus and plates, she adjusted her microphone and managed a smile. The crowd clapped, all aware of her as the _true_ star of the diner. Sure, they were more people who often sang or even danced, but she was special.

She was the youngest of the showrunners and her voice, well, her voice was simply astounding.

"As always, remember our Tuesday special of buy one get one free. This only applies to our cheesecakes and cranberry pies for the night, along with our mystery plate of the night." Her smile made her face hurt. "Now, please enjoy the show."

The sound of piano keys playing startled her, the lights dimming and a spotlight focusing on solely her.

"Mirror, tell me something. Tell me, who's the loneliest of all?"

Her singing rang across the diner, bouncing off the walls and melting the hearts of her audience. Raising her chin and stretching out her arms, she drowned too and the song and the ecstatic change of rhythm. She envisioned her home, the past life she once cherished and the memories of a lonely childhood.

There was a man who looked at her strange. She paid no mind, however, ignoring his gaze as he lifted a beer to his lips.

"I'm the loneliest of all."

The song ended with a magnificent flourish of the piano, and then it was gone. She panted heavily, grinning as her audience cheered and whooped. They clapped eagerly, some even taking it to the heart to repeat her nickname.

"Stella! Stella!"

She curtsied, the white dress grabbed between her pale fingers. Looking up, she took note of a man who had risen and gestured at her, talking to a waitress.

Sparing a glance at the pianist, she nodded at her brother as he resumed playing his instrument. He had never learned to play the piano, but he acquired that skill when they arrived at the diner.

Leaving the stage gave her heart aflutter. She cracked her knuckles, making her way to the dressing rooms.

The waitress from before had stopped her, walking alongside the manager of the fine establishment.

"Stellar, someone here wants to talk to you."

A clean and well-dressed man lingered behind them, a stern expression on his face. His hands were hidden behind him. He was tall, almost intimidating.

She curtsied as custom, stating a quick, "Hello".

They were left in private and Weiss felt awkward. She gingerly picked at her hair, curls bouncing as her fingers pulled.

"I won't take much time, Weiss." Blue eyes shone with recognition. "I was a... _friend_ with your father."

A chill went through her spine. Not once had her deceased guardian been brought up in a conversation with an outsider, much less in her little home. Her heart ached and throbbed, the memory of her parent swarming her with sadness.

"I understand, sir."

"And I am aware of...your mother's state."

The Schnee Whore- that was her name. For a frail girl like herself who lacked basic nutrition, she was shocked to find how much strength her punch had. The man who dared claim her mother as that had received a black eye as a warning, spitting and cursing at the young teenager.

"It is not a state, sir. She has left and that is final."

He nodded, gulping.

"As I had said, I am aware of you and your brother's housing. And I have searched far and wide, actually, under the inquiries of your sister."

Winter had been erased from her mind for the longest. She wondered what the woman was up to nowadays, although there was obviously no way to ask herself. It had been a faint dream to question and face her older sister.

"You have?" She had been stunned by the revelation. Winter probably hadn't even spared her a thought! Or had her sister actually been worried for their safety the entire time?

"Yes. I am surprised to have stumbled on this diner. There was much talk on your talents."

Smiling, she scratched her head.

"I am aware of the talk, sir. And I have been wondering of my sister, too."

"I'll make it quick. I'm General Ironwood, the headmaster of Atlas Academy. Your sister is attending currently, and I would like to offer you a safer home with better access to food."

The white-haired youth blinked. Was it for real? Was this a chance at redemption? Had her angel finally arrived in the form of General Ironwood? Were her and Whitley finally to be safe from the hardships of being street children?

"Sir, that is a kind offer but-"

"Weiss, I promise you access to the best schools and the best of the best." He interrupted. "There are no strings attached, I promised your father I would look after you and your siblings, after all."

Confliction arose in her troubled mind. All she had longed for was aid to her troubles, therapy to the ways she thought and medicine when she was sickly pale. This man was offering all that, even more, dare she say.

Her life had been terrible. Daily issues with bandits, even confrontations with gang members and the occasional accidents that nearly cost her her life. She dealt with older men who were gross and made her stomach hurt, and the attraction of a life of thieves and murderers.

Yet tempting as it was, she had never fallen. Her pride still took its nice grip on her, refusing to let go. And maybe that pride was her downfall, as she humbly accepted Ironwood's offer.

The man smiled and shook her hand, saying that he would arrive for her the next morning at her house.

News of them winning the lottery had made Whitley beyond thrilled. The beaming boy ate his vegetables with no remarks or sarcastic comments, finishing his meal and rushing to pack their few belongings. Their home of a wasted shack behind the diner would be emptied by tomorrow.

That night, dreams of gold and swimming in riches clouded her sleep. She was in a wonderful world, a crown bestowed upon her by a tinman. He nodded in approval and showed her off to the kingdom, declaring the wicked witch dead. She was crowned the true witch, and she fell into a trap of hunger for power.

Power. Power. Power.

Then a girl, years younger than her, appeared. She was dressed in red, a smile as wide as her eyes dancing in her child-like face.

"Oh, I can give you all the wealth in the world, your Highness."

And she took the red girl's hand, silver eyes glowing faintly as her world became nothing.

Then the realization that she had danced with the devil in the wrong fairytale once more hit her in an instant.

 **GULA**

Red pills rested on the thin woman's gloved palm, her exaggerated red lips woven into a sinister smile.

Words could not fathom how enraged Weiss had become. The sole idea of these wealthy _fools_ eating and eating food like a poisonous drug, vomiting their guts out in the end with the help of stupid pills. For what? So they could eat more? To devour more and then waste time complaining over their small wastes not becoming smaller?

"Ah, Weiss." Ironwood had dressed more appropriately for Atlas Academy's ball, a dance for the success of their students' graduation. It was quite formal and Weiss only realized now how much she longed for these events.

She spun, the blue fabric creating a whirl-like effect. "Yes, Mister Ironwood?"

Rather than his coat and usual uniform (as she called it, anyway) he had been bribed into wearing a suit and tie. It looked silly on him, though she knew he made it work. As a result of this year's graduation rate, he was forced to wear such outfit. He had made a bet to the Schnee clan as a joke, after all.

"It's time for you to sing if you're ready to go."

Maybe it was the fact that Ironwood had guided them as his own children or that her sister was also graduating, but they were allowed to attend. Weiss, of course, had other duties.

She nodded and walked towards the stage, where another woman happily handed her the microphone. Singing had become part of her and evolved into all she loved. It was as if they were her wings to freedom and she right now was soaring through the sky.

The sky was hers, no matter what, it would stay hers.

"Mirror, can you hear me? Do I reach you?"

Loneliness had been an emotion she hadn't felt in years. Her life was happy and bright, and she danced with sunshine most of the days. Ironwood filled a void in her and she felt complete. They were a family- she had a family. The general was the father she never had and he was the comfort that she always longed for. She was getting better, at a very slow pace, but getting better. She was reaching the light and the light seemed to be rushing into her arms, too.

The song had only been written during song therapy sessions- and yes, that was a thing. Ironwood had promised help and he had given only the best.

"There's a part of me that's desperate for changes, tired of being a pawn."

Unbelievably, she was able to catch up in school. Back before the fall of her family's company, she had been homeschooled with a skilled tutor. Now, she attended a private school and had excellent grades. Weiss was even top of her class!

Ironwood was proud of her, he always told her he was.

The rest of the song came to her with ease. She had practiced day and night, in front of Winter and Whitley for the sake of receiving criticism.

The sister she hadn't seen in years welcomed her with kindness, a sad look registered on her as she gently caressed the marks on the white-haired girl's face.

General Ironwood had promised her he would aid in the process of erasing the scars. Laser and plastic surgery; it made her stomach churn at the mere thought.

She had shaken her head at that, deciding to wear the marks of her past proudly. With therapy, she had grown past the point of hiding her face in layers of makeup.

"I will not surrender."

The last line came powerfully, her voice booming in the ballroom. The graduating class and guests were quick to applaud, cheering as she curtsied.

Her life was hers, no one else's. And compared to Winter's, she felt greatness in her path.

It had been disappointing to find Winter settling her life as a huntress. Her father had told them they were destined for greatness, but when she reminded her sister of this, she had only scoffed and said, "Father is dead."

For Weiss, with tutoring and classes and therapy, she found a new promise to herself. Ambition and greed and wrath made her take an oath- she, someday, would take the Schnee Dust Company back to its formal glory.

Why?

Because she was Weiss Schnee and as far as she knew, she could. And so, she would.

Her destiny had been sealed, anyway.

"Winter!" The girl chirpily headed to the refreshment area, where Winter stood holding a cup of punch.

She turned, grinning at Weiss.

"You did great!"

Winter was different. It was like the sun herself had crowned the Schnee and taken her under her wing to teach her how to sputter out pure sunrays. She was well, not at all depressed and very much the opposite of a solitary winter night.

Her hair was loose, left straight and decorated with a single blue flower above her right ear. A white lace dress hung to her body, draping over the floor. She looked amazing, even glowing.

"Thank you." She beamed. Her hands went to the table and picked up a velvet chocolate cupcake. It was carefully ornamented with pearl-like candy and enveloped in red frosting. All the treats would definitely be tasty, given that only Atlas' finest chefs and dessert makers took joy in collaborating for this event.

"Don't eat too much dessert," Winter started plainly. "The dinner will start in a bit." She ruffled Weiss' hair affectionately and waved, wandering off to a group of people.

Dinner was, too say the least, an extravagant sight. Plated dressed with (what she prayed was) fake silver that shone and shimmered, showing her reflecting and a tangle of burns. She didn't mind the grotesque sight, smiling as the courses were carried to the long table.

The banquet was to be served in six courses. Weiss had had three-course meals, but not six!

Saliva practically dripping from her mouth, she eyed the plate in front of her with great hunger. Garlic bread laid in front and as the servants brought more food out, she took one and bit into flavor itself.

Soup was brought as the second course, and contrary to the teen who had offered pills, she ate in small quantities. The Cream of Barley melted in her mouth with great delight. She wished to try more, but she knew the next platters would be equal or even better.

The courses were even better with each take.

She felt hunger and hunger as she devoured the food; fish gently grilled, vegetables roasted and covered in blended cheese, cumin lamb. She reached for another bread as she bit off a piece of lamb.

Dessert was breathtaking. As the last part, there was a water fountain of chocolate and strawberries and fruits perfectly aligned. Cakes spiraled from the table, all of different sizes and colors. There was even ice cream of many flavors! It was all a wonderful sight!

From the corner of her eye, she watched as the same woman stood up. She grabbed a glass of wine and passed pills to another teenager, who took them without a second thought. They left, perhaps to the restroom.

To throw it all up.

How disgusting.

This was enough food to feed the kids on the streets. The thought of such left a bitter taste in her mouth and she put down the second serving of frosted chocolate cake.

She and Whitley had never eaten this much back in those dreadful three years of abandonment. No, this was what they could barely muster in a year.

Yet here many were, forcing pills down their throat and food up their mouths.

How could someone sign their lives to protect these people? She watched as Ironwood declared a cheer for the huntresses and huntsmen of tomorrow. They held their glasses up and for once, Weiss felt disgusted.

By then the teenager with the deadly pills had returned. She looked anxious, smiling nervously and holding her drink up.

Weiss flaunted a smile of knowing and raised her own glass.

She wasn't hungry anymore- she would not fall into the sin of gluttony, but to the one for the hunger of vengeance and ambition.

As the dance carried on, ideas and images of the story where Snow White took a bite of the deadly apple came to mind. She knew what the metaphor was for in her own life and she would not allow that to happen.

But was she Snow White?

No, Snow White had fair skin. She did not.

But what would have happened if Snow White had never been beautiful in the first place?

 _"You already know, it's the nightmare you endured at some point."_

 **LUXURIA**

Lust was an emotion she had never yielded to, nor did she have plans to.

Teenage hormones were a thing- she was aware. She had _the talk_ at the age of ten, the functions of life were no longer an awkward issue for her. Of course, explaining to Whitley had been a pain, though the deed was sealed and to never be talked about.

Romance and sexual tendencies were something that was not attributed to her. She was aware that Ironwood had conditioned her to focus on studies and all that, not on worthless things. She had a debt with him and she would repay it with hard work and accomplishments.

"Mister Ironwood!" Weiss was _happy_ , as most days. A simper was never neglected from her face, she rushed forward and sped through the long corridors, stunning butlers in the process.

"Mister Ironwood!"

James Ironwood was ready to leave. He stopped before reaching for the door to the mansion, two guards following behind in tow.

"Weiss?" He opened his mouth to speak but was stopped when she raised a finger to cut in.

"Fencing. I want to fence."

Silence fell between the two. James raised an eyebrow, narrowing his eyes. He seemed puzzled, almost as if Weiss was simply joking or pretending. When she stood tall and proud, he only gave a nod.

"Fencing?"

She faltered.

"Anything, really. I want to fight." She paused. "Like Winter."

Ironwood pursed his lips, bobbing his head again and turning to leave.

"Wise choice, if I say so myself."

Ever since then, the thirteen-year-old learned that maybe she underestimated Winter.

The truth was, she wasn't sure why she wanted to fight. All she wanted was to restart her family's business, yet watching Winter fight had initiated something inside her.

Combat was an act of elegance and grace. It was a ritual, a dance. Watching your opponent as you spun and whirled to the rhythm was an _interesting_ idea, and she wanted to have a part in it.

Life had been a breeze past that fateful day. And not a breeze as in easy, it was _the_ breeze that rocked and shocked a whole house on a thunderous day.

Aura and semblance were new concepts to her. Dust was a bitter subject, but mastering all three was no difficult task at all. In fact, Winter helped her learn to summon her glyphs. Sure, the last part was irritable and hard, but there was a golden rule that must be followed- Schnee's could no longer be associated with 'quitting'.

Resistance was in her blood. Sweat dripped from her forehead as she carried her sword, a mischievous smile on her face. She charged forward, lunging at Winter who narrowingly moved out the way just in time.

"Weiss. Winter."

The voice of the general made them both stop. Heaving, the sisters bowed out of respect for the man. Ironwood sauntered into the makeshift arena, hands behind his back and a grin on his face. "I see you've improved greatly, Weiss. These past months have been a bit hard, haven't they?"

She nodded. "They have, sir."

"Then I'm pleased to inform both of you that, in honor of your fourteenth birthday, I have decided to help construct your own weapon. Of course, this is to fulfill the requirement of being transferred to a combat academy."

Weiss gaped, blue eyes wide with excitement. The sword dropped from her hands and clattered against the stone floors. Without much thought, she ran to Ironwood and wrapped him in a hug, a squeal of happiness slipping past her lips.

Both Winter and Ironwood were amazed at this, though the latter only patted her back and waited for the girl's emotions to cease. Once she stopped, she took a step back and laughed nervously.

"Sorry, I was kinda...ecstatic, I guess." She shook her head, white hair remaining in place. "Thank you so much, Mister Ironwood! You've done so much for my siblings, there is no way to repay your kindness!"

The man towered over her, though the intimidation she once felt was gone. It was past the point of existing, just a silly thought she naively had at some distant point. The general had a heart made of gold, even if it seemed he was quite brutal and a bit too patriotic. Of course, Weiss was sure she was greeted by the other side of James Ironwood.

"I think you will fit in Atlas Academy. On one condition, if I may add."

She could nearly faint from all the surges of excitement. Atlas Academy? Yes! Rather than making a fool out of herself, she decided to go for a nod and inquire the condition.

"That you'll keep being happy, Weiss." He glanced at Winter. "Continue training."

With that, he left.

The next day, she awoke to her siblings singing happy birthday. Winter was up, gloved hands holding a heavily decorated cake. White candles sat on top, flickering wildly. Whitley was perched on her bed, smiling widely as he sang along with his eldest sister.

Pushing the sheets off her bed, she pulled both siblings into a bear hug. "Ah, thank you so much, guys!"

She jumped out the bunk beds. Looking back, she sighed contently. Her father would have never let her have bunk beds with any of her siblings, ignoring any age gap. For the most part, while her older sister sought privacy, she would have longed for a chance to share a bunk bed with her younger brother. Now that she was fourteen and he would turn twelve in two months, she wondered if Ironwood would ask them to pursue different rooms.

Her heart hoped not- he kept the nightmares away, after all.

The trio exchanged laughs as Whitley pulled out gifts. One had a massive white bow. Careful fingers undid the bow, observing eyes making sure not a piece of paper was torn off without honor. Skillfully, the birthday girl took off the pink paper and gasped.

It was a book, massive and brown and old. Although dusty, she could read the words "Fairytales and More" on the cover. She gently went through the pages, stopping at one of the Seasons and Four Maidens.

"I always thought the Maidens were an exaggerated tale." She mused aloud. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Winter paled before scoffing and requesting her to read something a bit more realistic. As asked for, she turned to the tale of Rose Red and Snow White.

Weiss took the second gift, which was in a bag. She opened it and inside was a shining brooch, a snowflake made out of pearls. The brooch was pretty and she noted it had her initials in the middle, this time made by black diamonds. Stunned by its beauty, she turned to her sister and asked for its price.

"Please. This is a family heirloom, mother saved it for you to have eventually."

She stared at the jewel. It was bright, sure, and it was worth a pretty penny. In those despair-inducing days, why had Willow Schnee saved a valuable piece of jewelry for her daughter? The woman had walked out the picture, so why was it worth conserving anything?

The question lingered in her mind, ignoring her attempts to push it away. Her mood hadn't been ruined for the day, even if she acted a bit more conscious of the brooch's presence. When Ironwood cited for her to come for the development of her weapon, she timidly bit her lip and slipped the gift in her pants' pocket.

"Weiss, I believe a sword type of weapon would suit you."

Indeed it would. She had practiced and trained with swords all day long. His weapon, on the other hand, was a trusty bulky revolver. He was more into modern times, as he called it.

Nodding, she grabbed a sheet of blueprint paper and twirled her pencil. They had sketched several prototypes of knives and she had even handled already made weapons. Guns weren't her thing, she would soon learn, and the finely sharpened armaments didn't quite feel right.

"Sometimes, inspiration can come from old weaponry." The workshop smelled of wood and fire- a scent she fell in love with.

"Perhaps." She looked through old photographs for guidance, passing photo past photo till she reached one.

"I'd like to try this."

Frowning, he took the picture in his hands. Pacing across the room, he looked at both the image and the frail girl sitting on the desk's chair.

"A whip?"

She smirked. "A dust infused whip."

A bullwhip was probably too simple for Ironwood. For her, it was perfect. Weapons were an essential part of the carrier's soul, right? And her soul was...humble. Kind. Graceful. Bright. Yet dangerous, cunning, and intelligent.

"Oh, and its name is Stellar Dendrites." Weiss took the picture in her hand and smiled knowingly. "Yeah, I like that."

The rest of their time together was spent sketching whips. Weiss took a great time explaining her ideas to her guardian, who listened intently. She spoke passionately, pointing at different points of the weapon where dust could possibly be infused. Ironwood took pleasure in boasting over the quality of dust they could use, even referring to a student who had long graduated Atlas Academy. His signature weapon had been a whip named _Scorpion Tail_.

At the end of the day, one final design was decided upon. The duo walked out the workshop, Weiss clutching the blueprint. She talked to him about Atlas Academy and what she hoped she could do there someday.

"With time, Weiss. With time."

He left her to her room to get ready for dinner. Dusting her pants off, she ran inside to greet Whitley.

Currently, Whitley was on the top bunk bed. He was already dressed in an elegant blue suit, eyes narrowed as he read. He held the book up, getting up from his position and laying on his stomach.

"Whitley!" Climbing up the wooden ladder, she jumped into his bed and rolled out the blueprint. "Look!"

"Woah. Why a whip?" The book shut tightly with a sharp _thud_. Craning his neck for a better view, blue eyes carefully inspected the masterpiece.

"Think about it! It'll be so cool to fight and just, I guess, _whip_ that out!"

"Leave." He deadpanned.

"Whitley, it's my birthday!"

"Leave." Repeating his message, he playfully pushed his older sister away. "Just leave."

Scoffing, she rolled her eyes and started heading down the ladder, blueprint in hand. Before she could jump to the floor, Whitley reached out a hand and shouted, "Wait!"

"Oh, so now I don't leave?"

"Weiss, I wanna know some."

Hopping to the wooden floor, she raised an eyebrow. He followed afterward, only this time he simply jumped to the ground without the aid of the ladder. Teasingly, he landed successfully with a coy grin.

"Don't brag."

"Please, my dearest sister, I just wanna know some."

The oldest of the two nodded. "And that is?"

"You won't leave. I mean...Promise me you won't." The words tumbled out hastily.

"Whitley..." Her voice softened, her big sister instincts kicking in naturally. "I-"

"And I know you're going to Atlas Academy. Winter told me, everything had been arranged since day one. But...I don't want you to leave like mom did."

Weiss grimaced. Winter could talk about mother whenever she wanted, yet Whitley could not stomach it. He didn't hate his mom, he just feared the abandonment that she had stirred inside him. Back when they had a mansion and they walked like the rightful Schnee's they were, rumors sprung from butlers and servants that Willow Schnee had an obvious dislike towards her son.

"I hear that when he was born, she refused to hold him 'till the fourth day!" A maid cried once. "Ah, they say the newborn reminded her of Mr. Schnee, so I could see why she would do such!"

She always figured it was stupidity. Please, he had been only a baby! Most babies looked like raisins!

Gingerly, she shook her head and gently squeezed his hand.

"Hey, I'm not going anywhere."

"You know..." The white-haired boy bit his bottom lip. "I feel as if we paid for our mother's lust."

"Whitley!" Face burning red with indignation, the girl placed her hands on her hips and growled. "Don't say that!"

The Schnee Whore. The Schnee Whore. The Schnee Whore.

No. No. No.

"Listen, you can't say that about mother!"

"Please!" He hissed. He too was growing agitated. "Mother left us to fend for ourselves! It's only because of you that we made it here!"

Was that true? No, no, no. It couldn't have been. She could deny it all day, but a part of her knew it was true. Willow had left with no trace to follow or anything for them to cling to. No food, no money, only a shack and tears to shed.

That had been the reason she nearly killed Whitley and herself. An act of mercy, she visioned. The root of it all had been her mother, really.

"Whitley-"

"Promise me..." His voice grew stronger and stricter. Looking at her without prying away, he studied her expression with an eerily calmness of his own. "You won't leave like mother."

Weiss promised to not fall into the sin of lust like her mother had. At once, her brother flew into a mode of easiness. And for once, she felt as if she could keep this promise.

 **ACEDIA**

Stellar Dendrite fell into her grasp, the Atlesian prototype falling with a _clank!_ She heaved, ears searching for the sound of the green button lighting up. The arena flashed with the fluorescent color, grip tightening as she raced forward.

She was nearly done, she was nearly done! All she needed was to fight the Atlesian knight and then-

The simulation came to a sudden halt. She watched in confusion as the robots that emerged from above crashed to the ground. The lights turned on, the fan that once spun wildly stopping out of nowhere.

General Ironwood walked into the arena and he didn't look pleased. Hands were hidden behind his back, a frown on his usual warm face.

"Weiss. A word, if you may."

Oh, and that tone he used as a headmaster instead of a guardian. Yeah, he was not pleased.

"What is it, Mister Ironwood?"

He took a step toward her, motioning towards the whip. "I have spoken to Winter and she has informed me of your application process."

So yeah, he was pissed.

Weiss stood bravely, sharing her own dislike on her thin face and nodding at his words. "Yes, sir."

"Beacon Academy is a fine school and-"

"My wishes are to stay in Atlas." She spoke strongly, blue eyes pleading silently. "Atlas is where I am from and that-"

"You have worked hard, Weiss. I can't deny that. But I know it's not safe for you here."

"But why!" She screeched, unaware of the glyph that formed behind her. The glyph was massive and white, floating in midair as she clenched her fist. The only reason she realized it was present was for the icicles that flew out of it, and that was when she spun around in shock.

The general narrowingly avoided them and Weiss did a backflip, throwing a hand in midair as the glyph disappeared.

He rose to his feet. Placing his hands back against his back, he shook his head. "Weiss, your safety is all that matters. And as your guardian, you are enrolling in Beacon Academy and that's final."

Misery kicked her gut. The hard, ugly rock drifted to the bottom of her stomach, helplessly watching as the man left.

She could fight this. Yes, this war was not over. Maybe she could send an application to Atlas Academy and then- but no, Ironwood was the headmaster. Great. Great. Great.

The next morning, she couldn't contain her anger as an acceptance letter from Beacon arrived.

Huh. She didn't even have to send an application. Maybe Ironwood's position could help in a couple of things. Of course, she felt annoyed at how her combat test for her dream school had gone to waste. Beacon accepted her without much of a bat of an eye.

Seventeen-year-old Weiss Schnee scoffed and grabbed her whip, deciding training for the rest of the week was futile anyway.

 **INVIDIA**

There was much to be envious of Ruby Rose, though her pride bit at her tongue and she refused to admit it. The Girl in Red was always whisking her away in her dreams, yet her Ruby would be the one to hold her feet before she floated off to space. She could feel it, this was her Ruby.

And Ruby was filled with choice, she sadly knew. She was special and remarkable and strong. The warrior would be the perfect leader and she would follow without a hassle.

Meeting her silver eyes, she smiled and ignored the jealousy she felt.

Ruby had choices, Ruby had choices, Ruby had choices.

She did not. She did not. She did not.

The only choice she had was to blindly step behind Ruby in everything and soon, she learned that was the only choice she needed to make.

Weiss Schnee would follow.

* * *

 **a/n:** Ruby's trailer was supposed to be the longest but apparently not. I did four dif. versions of the white trailer and while I kinda dislike this one, it's what fits Weiss the most for the next episodes in store. Anyway, thanks for the reviews, follows and favorites! Blake's trailer is up next and boy, the personality change.

Alsooo, as someone asked, yes, the girls' personalities will change. While reg. Weiss is cold to Ruby, this Weiss is all open arms to her. It's a reverse AU, after all.


	3. Black Trailer

_**-x-**_

 _ **Black**_

 _ **-x-**_

 _"She was no Beauty, rather, she was the Beast hidden in the shadows."_

 _"No, maybe she was a Beast disguised as the Beauty."_

 ** _-x-_**

 **FORGIVE**

"Forgive me, Father, for I have failed."

She had fallen to her knees, the black dress that once clung to her body with an iron fist disintegrating into a pool of darkness that covered the polished wooden floors. It flickered in the moonlight's reign, almost as if giving her a coy wink. She bowed her head, her feline feature flattening in shame. Amber eyes narrowed, refusing to look up at the man's disappointed expression. Fatigue weighed on her shoulders as she tried her hardest to ignore the teasings and taunting from the fires, their bright embers dancing in sync and pointing fingers at her failure.

Failure. Failure. Failure.

The man said nothing. For a few seconds, the silence was all she needed in order to relax, tension rising from her body. That was until the silence turned deadly. It transformed from a poised, elegant woman to the screaming rage that hid in her- the poisonous dagger that struck at her chest and made her choke in her own blood.

"Rise."

She rose. Gracefully, she stood and dusted her dark dress before facing her Father who looked at her with such guilt and pities her heart clenched. Hiding her hands behind her back, she nodded and awaited further judgment.

Her father had been young once. He was handsome, she could not deny her old man that, but stress and tiredness and gnawing remorse had taken a tow on his aging process. Albeit, the man was standing in full health. His claws dug into the thick red fabric of his chair, his makeshift thrown for better words, and he sighed and opened his mouth to speak.

"You were given a great task, my dear."

Yes, the task was great. No one could deny that, yet she felt so fucking _worthless_ at failing. It wasn't an easy job, though that was not a justification for her missteps. They believed in her and she let them down. Now, she was paying the price.

She looked at death with such pride and regret mixed in one, it was hard to even register her emotions.

"Alas, the task may have been too much for you. I will, as custom, allow you to justify your actions."

As custom. He had to say those words because if not, many would say he was rushing to save his one and only daughter. His gem- that's what he called her. He was a caring and compassionate man, even willing to help those accused. His heart was pure, yet the organization he inherited was not.

"Father, I am grateful for your opportunity." Where was her voice? She was unsure, but she found it. Somehow, she could speak. "As given. I went to _her_ home. It was not easy to find, as she was an outcast by society and nearly everyone, yet I found her through connections. When I did, the fire started."

He stayed silent, probing her to continue.

"It was a cabin, Father. Old and set to destroy, but Atlesians are lazy if it does not involve guns and weapons." Hands balled into fists. "She sought that as a home. And when I was ready to break in, when I knew her brother was asleep and she was barely setting to sleep, an unspeakable crime was created."

"So...you're saying that Weiss Schnee started a fire as suicide?"

Darkness grinned back at her. It waved a hand, crying out, "Oh! Continue dear!"

She faltered. "Yes, Father."

The fire was raging, growing and taking and eating and devouring. She remembered letting out a cry before she raced into the wilderness, cowardly if she may add. She figured the Schnee was dead. Yet now, she wondered why she hadn't stayed to recollect her heart.

"Her heart, my dear. We wanted her heart. What you gave us was set to embarrass our ancestor!"

The Faunus sighed, nodding. "I understand. I have failed, I made a foolish mistake and will own up to the given punishment.

It went by ranks. Oh, the punishments went by ranks. Fear seeped into her heart. Gosh, what an idiot! Why did she kill a damn deer and claim that was the Schnee's heart!?

"I fear," Her Father stood, moonlight glinting off his armor. "That what awaits you is quite brutal."

There was a sword in one gloved hand and she let out a cry, confirmation that _that_ would be her suffering ringing in her head. She realized there was sadness in her Father's worn eyes and she swore he mouthed, "Forgive me, Daughter."

The sensation of a cool blade striking her feline ears was enough to set her heart racing. Five years into the distant future, Blake Belladonna awoke with a start and in a pile of sweat, chest thumping as she cried in agony.

Lights flickered and footsteps pounded against the floor, her vision blurry as another voice inquired in worry, "Are you okay?!"

Amber eyes blinked in confusion, the memory never truly fading away from her grasp. A worried Weiss Schnee stood along a tired Ruby Rose, who gently rested her head on her palms as they both waited for an answer.

"I'm...fine."

The memory of her twelve-year-old self was enough to keep the seventeen-year-old awake, never tearing her gaze from the sleeping snow white. How much was the Schnee's golden heart worth, really?

 **ME**

In truth, she did not care about her Faunus features. They had always been obvious, enough to startle a couple of humans or to provoke others. Most of the time, she learned to never suppress her anger and fight back.

The White Fang had stricken fear into the hearts of so many for so long. Being born into the organization, she had no choice but to blossom at the hands of those wearing red gloves. They wouldn't allow for her hands to get dirty, rather shielding her from the horrors of the outside world. Her mother (bless her soul, wherever she was) would fret if she found dirt in her nails. She remembered a past where her mother would lovingly tuck her in her pink sheets while her father laughed and bestowed wisdom upon her.

"You are an exotic beauty, my daughter." He smiled and there was a twinkle of joy in his eyes. "A beauty worth waiting for, so don't ever act as if otherwise."

Her feline traits were not to be hidden, even if they were no longer there. That sentence did not make sense, on second thought. Nowadays, the features that were so hard to ignore were now even more difficult to not spare another glance at. Her ears, her cat ears, were chopped. All that was left were two stumps and a tragedy.

It was pure symbolism- the failures of her past and being disowned. Left alone, rejected, cold, vulnerable, who was she? In this cruel, bleak world, she was nothing but shadows seeking refuge.

She wanted to grow and nourish back in her home, the comforts of the Belladonna household she so dearly loved. She wanted to run through the rose bushes her mother so carefully planted. She wanted to feel the thick pages of her father's study books, the scent of oldness bringing her to life. Yet she was torn from their grasp, disowned as tradition clamored it to be. She was left to her devices and so far the sixteen-year-old was unsure of herself.

Pride refused to admit it but she was fucking _proud_ of herself for living so long.

It was admirable, really. Most shunned children of the White Fang ceased to exist after the age of fifteen, some lost to gang violence or to the claws of starvation. Others suffered a worst fate and stories of survival were so few, it was quite a shock to hear a Faunus living by themselves and rising to become someone in life. She had not risen yet. Survived, yes.

 _Now I must rise._

The golden sun rose in its glory, clouds kissing their partners goodbye and parting their ways. Birds chirped in the morning light, signaling the path to war. The trees rustled and danced as the wind said hello before springing away, carrying the sweet scent of freshly baked goods.

Blake heaved. She opened her eyes, pushing away her disastrous thoughts and sat up in her bed. It was uncomfortable and felt like sleeping on rocks. Now was not the time to complain, though. She stood, stretching her arms and limbs and sighing in relief.

A new day had come.

Another day to waste. Oh, and it was her day off from work.

The man who so kindly rented her a home was not home. He had a separate store aside from the apartments he also owned blocks away. There was a bookshop a few buildings down and Blake was happy to say she worked there. Names were not important for her, but Tukson's name rang loud and clear in her mind. He was the humblest by far, the faintest light of sunshine in his hazel eyes and a heartful laugh ringing Blake's ears.

She didn't have plans for the future. Maybe she'd run back home and open a little bakery of her own with all her saved money- a wistful dream, nonetheless. School was never on her list of essentials and neither was the chance of even getting a better job. She would rise, somehow, though she was stumped as to _how_.

Somedays, she wanted to sit back and send a message or letter or pigeon to her mother and ask how she was. Or her father, depending if she felt forgiving and not as petty. The possibilities of the latter wavered each and every day after her fall.

Had they had another kid? She wouldn't judge them if they did, they needed a kid for many reasons. She wouldn't lie about being hurt at the thought of another kitty ruining her pink bed and flopping down to read her books about Red Riding Hood and Beauty and the Beast.

Blake combed her black clocks with ease. Her hair wasn't tangled and the curls uncoiled. She pulled her hair into a loose bun and dressed casually before opening the door and leaving the comforts of her room.

Tukson's Book Trade was established nearly decades ago, albeit under a different name. The reason Tukson had stuck out like a sore thumb was not for his personality, rather it was all about his origin. The Faunus had (incredibly, may she add) won the bookstore from a racist who detested Faunus and loved challenges. Young and naive Tukson has proposed a game of cards. If he lost, then the man would eagerly get all of Tukson's money. If he won, Tukson would get the bookstore. Pure, drunk stupidity was the main factor for this and Tukson won with ease.

And like her, Tukson had been kicked out from the White Fang when he was twelve.

The walk there had been filled with calm. She was at home in the streets who refused to let go of her. Upon arrival to the dull and brown establishment, she put on a smile and opened the door, sliding in and exclaiming, "I'm here!"

As she had predicted, Tukson would fret over her arrival. It was her free day, but who was to ban her from being a customer rather than an employee? Certainly no one!

"Blake?" He came from the storage room, a heavy box in his arms toppled with books and a look of confusion plastered on his face. "What are you doing here? It's your day off, go rest! Wouldn't you rather go to a club or something? Practice dance or whatever?"

"I'm fine, Tukson! I came to help! Besides, dance is just dance and I barely go to clubs with Ilia now that she got accepted into her psychology school!" Her grin remained. "The first semester's ending for those Beacon kids, I'm sure there's gonna be a lot coming to get their hands on extra study guides."

That was true- cold was settling into Vale and with it came exams. A part of her was glad she didn't struggle with those as she had seen a girl in a Beacon uniform have a breakdown a week ago, something over not learning enough material and being put on repudiation. She had comforted the girl and advised (or selfishly advertised) a couple of study guides. In return, the girl bought over a hundred worth of textbooks.

"I suppose so." Tukson was not one to refuse help. Sighing, he put the books down and gestured for her to help. "Arrange those."

She arranged books in alphabetical order, amber eyes looking through the colorless covers of brown and white. Business was busy as usual, rush hour being in the afternoon usually. Still, she continued arranging and helping customers as much as she could. Cheerfully, she continued until lunch break, when Tukson left the shop with another worker and invited her to lunch.

Tukson was not a father figure, but she respected the muscular man greatly. That was enough to be said considering the disgusting men she dealt with in the past. They strolled through Vale and stopped by a noodle shop, where Blake happily ordered fish and noddles. Being mostly empty, the duo embraced the silence and began to talk about their days. Mostly, Tukson leaned into a conversation concerning her future.

"You could study, Blake." He dug into his bowl and smiled. "Make us proud. Study, be someone."

Blake tossed her head back and laughed. "That path was decided some time ago. I studied until...the sixth grade, maybe. I doubt I can."

He stared at her sometime before shaking his head.

"And dance?"

"I like dancing for fun. I can't afford proper classes, so no."

"What about a _dancing_ huntress?"

They both stared before he burst into laughter and she hollered. She wiped fake tears away and he held his stomach, eyes closed in pure bliss.

"As if!" They cried in unison. A faunus being a huntress or hunter was not unheard of- it was a noble task, after all. Quite frankly, that was out of Blake's reach. She was sure her combat skills could _somehow_ pass Beacon's walls, but she doubted there was much to do for her life. Besides, there was no fire for the job, or even the simplest ache for glory. There was nothing within her, only numbness.

Tukson only wanted the best for her, she knew. He didn't mean much but to make her think of the future.

"Blake, if I may be honest." He settled his bowl down, creases appearing on his forehead. "I don't want you wasting energy on odd jobs you pick around."

Those odd jobs were her life. They were all she had, all she knew to do was work and work and work. She knew the struggle of working before the sun rose and ending after the sun rose. She had learned to manage the workload of bakeries, grocery stores, restaurants, coffee shops, and even small business she had naively opened by herself. She knew the sensation of shutting her eyes for what seemed an eternity, only to awaken five minutes later and start working somewhere else. She learned, at such a young age, that older men could not be trusted and that the world never had good intentions.

At some point, she learned those who live in the streets succumb to perish within the streets.

"That's all I've done, Tukson. All I've had."

Tukson nodded. Flicking a piece of noodle off the table, he glanced back at her.

"There must be something more, kid. You've survived for so long- do something now. Better yourself. You can study, hell, _I'll_ help pay your studies. I can teach you! I have connections, we can help you catch up to- what? High school? No, fear not, we can-"

"Tukson."

Her voice was always warm. Now, it was serious, cold, calculating. She meant business and he knew it.

"Blake."

They stopped at the sound of laughter. The bell rang, signifying another client. In came more laughter, a voice standing out from the others. Blake shifted her gaze, watching the four enter. The teens walked in, oblivious to her stares as they hurriedly ordered food to the kind man. The faunus noticed, very briefly, two things- they were clad in Beacon's traditional uniform ( _Beacon Kids, ugh_ ) and one of them was a faunus. She had pretty brown hair and a pretty face and two rabbit ears.

She heard Tukson let out a, "Well, would you look at that." For a second, sixteen-year-old Blake felt hope in the study guides Tukson sold.

 **FATHER**

There was an inexplicable kick to her guts and Blake realized, oh, how she realized, that something is terribly wrong.

She had always heard the common (and idiotic) myth of blind people. If blind people were, well, blind, then they had a better sense of smell. So if such human logic was true, then that would also apply to her feline features. Even with the blessing of night vision, could she possibly have better tastebuds or smell? Well, her smell was definitely good, and there was someone _here_ who reeked of alcohol and smoke and other things she did not want to mention.

Maybe her extra superhero powers transferred to her guts, and that's why her paranoia had skyrocketed. She was never paranoid, she was mostly cautious. Of course, growing up in the streets made her be that way.

Last week, two faunus girls who had failed their initiation task (one was supposed to murder a citizen, another inflict terror in a village) went missing. Those girls were older than Blake and were perhaps the senior residents of the streets. They knew everyone who had come after them because no one was left before. Now, they were gone.

"They were kidnapped. I heard they sold them as sex slaves in Mistral." Her friend, Ilia, leaned against the streetlight. It flickered and danced, teasing them both. The joke was on the lightbulb, the two were faunus and their vision was superb. "Others say they committed suicide in a lake. Either way, I guess we're next."

Chills ran down her spine. Ilia spoke nonchalantly as if their situation was meant for every fifteen-year-old to handle. She offered a look of disgust at her comment, frowning as she slipped into the night with her friend close in tow.

"It's not funny, Ilia." The night was still young, the air fresh and crisp. Blake wasn't sure what they were doing or if they were doing the right thing. She knew something was off, but she preferred pretending to be oblivious. Instead, she made her way forward. "This life is dangerous and I don't get the point of what we're going to do."

"The point _is_ Blake, you're fifteen. You're young, we're young. So, let's be normal teenagers for once and act like everything's alright."

Blake paused. She looked at her tawny friend before raising a brow.

"Normal teenagers sneak into clubs?"

Ilia only winked.

The nightclub was completely out of Blake's comfort areas. Most of the nights, she'd rather take refuge playing cards with Ilia and her ball of friends (Which, surprisingly, she had. Yet friends was something she wasn't sure she'd call them.) She wasn't exactly a thrill seeker, to begin with. Ilia was, and Blake was a little envious of how open she could be when she wanted to.

Music erupted from the doors of the club. She caught glimpses of flashing neon lights and heard hints of laughter and whistling. She heard cheers before the doors shut, two heavily dressed bouncers crossing their arms as more adults filled the line. Ilia smiled and grabbed Blake's hand, pulling her towards the end of the line.

"You brought the IDs?"

"Uh." Amber eyes blinked. Nodding, she stubbornly picked up her totally authentic ID, green shimmering on the card. "The fake one-"

"Shut up!"

The line became shorter and soon, Ilia and Blake were next to get their IDs checked. The bouncers glanced at them and looked at each other. One shrugged and between looking back at their real IDs and their young faces opened the door and let them in.

Ilia's smile grew wider as they entered the club. People danced, girls dressed in short skirts and dresses (catching Ilia's gaze, much to Blake's annoyance) offered drinks as they, too, swayed along, older couples smooched in the back and an inviting bar was at their disposal. Ahead of being able to protest, Ilia had pulled Blake into the crowd and started dancing.

How did one dance? Blake didn't know, hell, she was never taught to begin with! But Ilia knew how to move her hips and tap her feet to the beat, brown ponytail also in motion. She laughed, hands stretching to greet the flashing lights that were now pink and purple. How could she do it? How could she pull this off?

Blake tried, embarrassingly enough, to mimic her movements. Ilia was swifter and agiler, so Blake was sure she looked like a hot mess compared to her partner. She too moved, feet gliding across the colorful tiles and spun with the tan beauty. Ilia stretched out a hand and latched onto Blake, inviting her to dance. They became immersed within one another, every movement and every shrug and the faintest smiles Ilia sent her way beckoning Blake to join. She moved, too, albeit scared at first. With each growing second, joy burst within and she became confident in her steps.

It was only them too again. Only them- the sun and the moon. Blake wasn't sure what _she_ was, though it ached that Ilia was her sun and the source of light she had. Blake was the moon that allowed her to breathe and breathe each and every day. She was there prowling at night, the one shadow in the fields of sunshine.

And the star that connected them both was now gone.

The music ended with a great flourish. Blake was in Ilia's arms, heaving and panting. Ilia had the biggest grin on her face as she held her friend.

"Hey, you look tired. Wanna take a drink?"

Blake bobbed her head in response. "Yes."

The duo strolled towards the bar. They sat next to each other and waited for the middle-aged man to attend them. He only glanced at them before asking for their orders, as if the age of fifteen was not scrawled all over their body.

"I'd like a Fuzzy Navel!"

In all honesty, she did not know what drinks were. She only knew the rotten taste of cheap liquor from the corner store the boys bought on special occasions, not the fancy looking drinks girls and men held. She was a stranger to the world of bubbly, orange and electric blue drinks with colorful umbrellas. Ilia knew of this odd world.

"Yeah, I'll like that, too."

The man walked away and began preparing their orders. The intoxicating aroma of rich whiskey lulled her head, swarming it with thoughts. Ilia was gazing aimlessly at the crowd of dancers, elbow propped behind her on the counter.

"Normal teenage things, huh?" The chameleon faunus chuckled. "Yep, for these kids, definitely."

"It is what it is, Ilia. Certain things will never change."

The clink of their glasses being set on the marble counter brought their thirst back. Eagerly, Ilia gulped down her drink while Blake studied hers suspiciously. It was a bright, orange drink that smelled of peach. Closing her gaze, she brought it closed to her lips. She could sniff oranges, peach, and vodka. Sighing regretfully, she threw her head back and took in the whole drink.

She never drank. She had standards, drinking would definitely violate one.

Flavor exploded in her mouth. She could taste fresh peaches and orange juice. Vodka was also involved in the mix, though it wasn't as bitter as she had expected. Quite frankly, Blake was stunned. It was...actually good!

The raven-haired girl put the glass down and laughed. She smiled, feeling a certain pair gray eyes on her.

"Wow!"

"I know! Isn't this amazing?" Ilia cried. "I choose it every time! The shot of vodka is very refreshing, too!"

"It...is actually nice, I'll admit."

"Want another?"

Her heart fluttered at the offer. She had work to do tomorrow- a part-time cleanup job at a nail salon after a chaotic robbery. The pay was surprisingly good; 300 liens for only five hours of assistance. A Fuzzy Navel didn't sound like a total hangover type of drink, right? Then again, she knew nothing about drinking! How could she tell?

Didn't you feel the effects of alcohol in a matter of minutes? Or was that another myth? She was still stuck in thought and failed to realize Ilia had ordered another drink, this time asking the gruff man for twice the vodka shots. Blake was still pondering on how tasty another drink would be and how heavy her head felt when she sipped from the colorful glass, shadows of blues covering her face.

Then she felt the need to get up and so she did. She laughed, finished her drink and pulled her brunette companion up.

"Let's dance!"

The night had turned out be young. The music had picked up as Blake made her way to the dance floor. Her insecurities had long left her, her amber eyes settling on the promise of confidence and fun. _Fun_. That word was unheard of in her life.

The pale girl's feet glided across the floor. She threw her hands up, hips moving as the air around her electrified. She danced and danced, the rage and stress pent up in her being released into the night sky. Above her, the disco ball's ferocious light illuminated it all, but Blake burned brighter.

She had demons, Ilia had demons, but tonight, those demons had gone to rest. She felt free and young and eternal and immortal- as if this life had suddenly become hers and her life could actually be beautiful. She was magic, rage, and grace all in one. Suddenly, she felt powerful. All eyes would be on her and even Ilia would look in surprise as Blake drank and danced, yet the latter would fail to realize. Instead, they would move and move.

As the song ended, Blake had made her way to the bar. She heaved, sweat running from her forehead. The girl felt a pat on her back and heard Ilia, "Woah, maybe you should do professional dance."

"Please, I'm drunk."

"Oh, that is not drunk. You're just confident."

"And happy! And free!"

She jumped on her seat and stretched her long legs. Ilia only shrugged and sat next to her.

"You act like you got high."

"High on joy?"

"Yeah, no. My Blake is strictly business."

Blake giggled. "Please, I get it. I'm young and I'm having fun. Normal teen stuff, right? Now, buy me another drink, please!"

Even if Ilia preferred for her friend to stop drinking (Not because they couldn't afford it, they had _some_ cash saved from certain run-ins), she wouldn't voice her concerns. Blake was not the one for fun, much less for drunk dancing. Hesitantly, she requested another drink from the bartender. Sometimes Ilia liked to pose as a carefree drunk, the truth was she couldn't handle two glasses. How could Blake handle four?

"Thank you!" In less than a second, Blake was gone. Before Ilia could say something, Blake was up dancing and she could only sigh at the empty glass.

"Well, I should probably not invite her ever again."

When night came, Ilia paid off Blake's total drinks of six and tricked the girl into leaving. The pair were walking- correction, Ilia was carrying a drowsy teenager down the streets and into their little shack for the night. No one was in Vale late at night, except for people who were up to no good. Strange women and questionable men owned the streets at this time, and the Children of the Corn were known to stay in at night.

Blake wasn't helping, either. She kept rambling, even singing offkey to random songs she picked on the radio. She would sometimes start crying, only to laugh and scream, "I faked it!"

Ilia was grateful when they _finally_ made it home. The lone shack, as she called it, was set to be destroyed by the City Council. The City Council was also very lazy and had forgotten to destroy it a year ago. Now, it was her and Blake's home.

It wasn't comfortable. There was a disgusting smell of rats and expired food, along with broken windows and growing molds on the walls. There was one bed, the one Ilia used, and a box Blake claimed was hers. She figured it was a cat thing and didn't ask questions.

She set the drowsy girl on the bed once, throwing the black comforters over her thin body. Blake sat up, looking sadly at Ilia.

"This is your bed."

"Please, you'll thank me when you wake up." The brunette brought out a bucket and placed it alongside. "Roll over whenever you throw up."

Amber eyes widened. "Um, what?"

Ilia chuckled. She threw herself on the bed, ignoring the cat faunus' protests.

"Iliaaa."

"Yes?"

"I miss Adam."

The name only hurt the girls, the reminder of the friend that left them over three months ago still damaging them both. But to Blake, who had most likely grown to have romantic feelings for the older, it hurt like hell. As for Ilia, it hurt like hell to see her suffering.

"I do, too."

Blake didn't know of Ilia's feelings. Why would she? She was stuck on Adam. Always Adam.

Ilia would be lying if she didn't admit that she missed him a lot.

Blake rolled over, amber meeting soft gray.

"When do you think he'll come back?"

She had hope, the faintest glow of hope. Hope that he would come back, that he would return. Hearing her friend laugh, the hope died within her.

"I don't think he ever will."

"But I miss him. I miss him and mom and dad. I miss home. Do you miss home? I miss home."

"I miss him, Blake. Each and every day. I miss my parents and I miss Atlas. I miss my mom and my dad and everyone."

"Then why can't we go back?" Tears filled her amber eyes. "Why can't we?"

"We didn't want to. We chose to stay."

"But why?"

The question stung. Why had they stayed? What was the point of staying in the streets, only to die?

"I feel like a beast, Ilia. To be shunned from home, stripped from my faunus features...everything makes me feel like a beast. And I'm angry, but tonight, I felt like my age. I felt like I could live. I felt _alive_."

Blake pressed her hand on her forehead, bright colors filling her vision. Her headache was growing worse.

"Hey, Blake. Guess what?" Ilia's soft voice was alluring, that she could not deny. It was soothing to her pained mind.

"Hmph?"

There were no city sounds in the darkness. She couldn't hear anything, only the rustling of leaves.

"We made it to the age of fifteen."

When she heard no response, the brunette turned to look at her partner. She was fast asleep, snoring away her tragedies and shushing her unspoken cries.

Fifteen-year-old Blake had suddenly decided that if she had finally made it to the age of fifteen, then her life was hers. And she'd have fun and work hard, dragging Ilia to clubs late on weekends and crying their sorrows as the sun rose. She'd spent time treasuring her partner's dreams of being someone greater, of being someone. Blake would dream of Adam and home, only to find herself being moved to the future's music. Ilia would hear her cries, too. She'd cry about the loss of her ears, the only connection she had to her past. She'd cry about her dreams, even if she posed and smiled like a golden girl during the day.

"Hey, Blake?"

"Yeah, Ilia?"

"I love you."

It was a drunken confession that Blake knew she wouldn't regret.

"I love you, too, Ilia."

 **FOR**

Most stories of other ex-White Fang kids were never to be told. Blake never told hers to anyone, yet it had spread like wildfire long before she had arrived at Vale's branch of stranded kids. She knew their tales were symbols of respect, and only those they trusted highly could be invited into the doors of their past. In all honesty, she felt humiliated at the thought that she could not even give that honor to someone. It was soul-crushing, though she had only smiled and pretended like it was nothing.

Ilia's story was something she only knew of till recently. They had been friends since the two years she was punished and the girl had definitely grown on the feline's side. It wasn't a sacred ritual, thought it sounded like one. Everyone hid their tales, especially Ilia and the first person she ever met- Adam.

Adam was different from everyone. He was tougher and stronger and had lived longer. While Blake was barely fourteen, the boy was sixteen. Being alive past the age of fifteen was an incredible feat, and Adam was on the brink of accomplishing another year in the span of three days.

Yet even if Blake had known Adam for two cruel years, they did not share stories. She was sure Adam knew of her tale, everyone did. Adam's was a complete mystery. He appreciated his privacy, so Blake never budged. She envied him secretly, hoping that she could have had that same sake.

It bugged her only a bit that he hadn't said anything. Blake thought long and hard about why her closest friend (he'd never call her that) wouldn't spill his tragedies to her on the way to combat practice in some fields by a river.

Adam was one of the few boys who were into sharpening their combat skills. Blake had learned a lot from her home, but Adam had taught her more. Aura and semblance were new terms she had learned with him. She was ashamed to admit that she had ditched the old dagger her parents gifted her for modified chakrams. Not that she threw that old thing away, she kept it for memories' sake. It was just that the chakrams were also pistols and she loved her weapons' name.

 _Purple Hyacinth_.

Most of the time, Adam practiced with both Ilia and her. Ilia was pretty fond of ditching to go mess around or was probably somehow working, so it was no surprise to find her not there. What was a surprise was seeing Adam laying on the grass, his practice blade (because he never used his actual weapon) tossed to the side as he panted? The bull faunus only looked at the sky and his mask rested in his fingertips.

Her heart leaped. She had never seen Adam without his signature mask- the mask he claimed humanity and his own race had now pressed upon him. He looked exhausted, drenched in sweat. She wasn't sure what to do until he propped his elbows on the grass, pushing him forward and sliding an eye open to greet her. Crimson peeked at her as he muttered a soft, "Hey, Belladonna."

Crimson! Crimson peeked at her! A deep shade of that red looked back at her figure, his eyes glinting briefly. Red! Adam's eyes were red! She couldn't even believe it, the mystery had long been solved!

Just weeks ago, Ilia and her had coined different colors their friend's eyes were. Ilia had settled on pink and claimed they would contrast with Adam's red and black color scheme. Blake clamored they were a shade of bright yellow and that he hated them for the same reason. In the end, they had laughed at the thought of Adam snoring with a teddy bear while wearing his signature mask.

"Hey, Adam." She visibly tensed as he raised a finger and lazily gestured for her to come. She obeyed their group's leader, sighing as she plopped down on the dirty, green grass. The Bull faunus turned fully, and Blake's own eyes widened. She looked at his left eye, the eye being shut and a scar running across it.

"Crimson." He spoke up. "That's my eye color. My _eye_ , as you can tell."

Blake closed her mouth. "Yeah, sorry for staring."

"Don't worry, Belladonna. Just don't go sharing it with everyone you know." He snorted at the last part. It would be a messed up world if Blake ever spent her free time gossiping.

"As if I ever would do that."

The sky was beautiful. The raven-haired girl looked at the heavens, the sun rays hitting her soft skin. Orange and yellow and red melted into the sky, clouds dotting occasionally yet allowing the sun to shine in peace. She rested her chin on her palms and sighing happily. Brushing strands of black away, the aroma of freshwater filled the air. Nothing could ruin the serenity she was feeling at this very moment.

"I was twelve, too."

Except, perhaps that.

"I was only twelve." Adam chuckled softly. "I had a good family, but not of your rank, Belladonna. We were still up there, so of course, my fate was sealed."

The teenager listened intently. She didn't know much and the bull faunus never opened up, so why now?

"I didn't have to kill. I didn't have to steal. I was supposed to attract the Grimm- to bring those creatures here, to Vale. They wanted fear and shock and indignation, so I was ordered to create despair. How could a twelve-year-old be asked to bring such negativity to a small section of the city? What did I have to do?" He paused. "I was only a kid, _Blake_. What would I have known?"

 _'But you tried anyway, didn't you?'_

"But I tried anyway."

She nodded, clicking her tongue. That was the Adam she knew- the courageous man whose determination drove him miles. It was what had drawn her to him, she often found comfort in his ability to persist. She figured maybe he would use that determination with her and stay with her as long as life allowed them to keep breathing.

"How, Adam?"

"I wasn't ordered to kill. I didn't want to, but what would be the most despairing thing for a city? It'd have to do with witnessing a death of their own in cold blood. But not just any civilian, I'm speaking of someone of a high rank, much like you to the White Fang. Point is, I didn't have the guts to do it. Last minute, I rang from the White Fang before they could punish me."

"I got away," The older boy continued. "I got away with only a messed up eye. An eye for an eye, I suppose."

"Who was it? Who'd you try hurting?" Blake whispered. Curiosity surely would kill the cat, yet satisfaction would bring it back, right? And this little detail only piqued her interest, much to Adam's displeasure.

In reality, how had such a great task fallen on him? Attracting Grimm? Seriously?

"Some parts of _this_ tale will be said at different parts. Who it was, Blake, I will say when you're older."

The answer only irritated Blake. She stood up, poised with Purple Hyacinth against his neck in a flash. There was a wicked grin on her face.

"Please, age is nothing but a number. Now, let's practice before we both start crying another river!"

The fourteen-year-old had leaped into action, her ringed swords crashing with the bull's. They danced that afternoon and never once did Blake think Adam would be capable of leaving her for a cause that could no longer be saved.

 **I**

"I feel like a beast."

The fire crackled and roared, the flames being the only source of heat for the trio. Thirteen-year-old Blake stiffened, huddling into a ball for warmth. The torn up hoodie she had beat another kid up for was no longer good enough. She needed fresh clothes, so she planned to get up early in the morning and rob from a store. Dollar stores that offered clothing weren't really picky about their merchandise.

Her stomach roared in hopes of competing with the flames. It was a dangerous competition. Her stomach continued kicking and kicking, and Blake lowered her head in shame. She remembered a life where food was easily at her disposal, where her mama brought her fresh, sliced food whenever she was busy studying. She remembered her father setting his duties as chief aside and taking her fishing for her birthday.

The flamed burned brightly in her memory, roasted fish being a strange delight to her from a young age. She missed fish and her family and food and a home and a shelter. It had been one painful, agonizing year from her punishment.

Fingers brushed against the black stumps on her head. She let out a distinct cry, cowering as the fire created shadows on the granite walls. She was terrified, terrified of this world she so cruelly lived in.

"You aren't a beast, Blake."

She didn't know Ilia much. She was nice and funny and always joyous, even if her emotions often got the best of her. She was street smart, something that Blake was not. Ilia _knew_ how to work, Blake did not. Ilia could grow up an have a good life, Blake could not.

"I feel like it, Ilia. I feel shunned by humanity and my own people. I feel hurt, Ilia."

"We all do after the first year." The brunette sighed, sitting next to her and wrapping an arm around her. "Trust me, landing from Atlas to Vale's ruins was weird. You're not alone, right, Adam?"

She felt another arm cover her thin body. The eldest of the three sat silently next to her, mask glinting in the fire's light. They sat in silence, watching the fire as it roared once more.

"This is our life, Belladonna. One day, we'll have decent lives." He sighed softly. "You are no beast."

"I want to go back." Blake laughed gently. "I want to go back."

"To what?" Ilia mocked lightly. "To the life of a beauty?"

Blake did not respond. She sighed again and began rubbing her palms for warmth.

Life was rough. Adam and Ilia were her only blessing, truth to be told. The trio always had each other's back, with whatever problems they had. In a way, they were family. A sad, pitiful excuse for a family. After all, could three shunned faunus, consisting of a perplexing bull, a helpful lizard girl, and a cat with no lives left to spare, be a true family?

 _'I am no Beauty, rather, I will always be the Beast hidden in the shadows.'_

The trio huddled together and Blake bit back her cries, unaware of the other two's negative emotions rising with each minute. They were just weak, tired, hungry children that were remnants of failure.

 _'No, maybe I am a Beast disguised as the Beauty. At least, to them who see me as no evil.'_

Thirteen-year-old Blake had only lived in the streets for one year. The year would turn to two, then the three, then life would change. Unbeknownst to her, Adam and Ilia's fates wouldn't be on the same side she would choose, much to her despair.

 **HAVE**

"Forgive me, daughter, for I have failed. As your mother, as your friend, as everything. I have failed, my daughter."

There were tears in Kali Belladonna's eyes and Blake had never seen such a terrifying sight. Her mother was the pinnacle of boldness, she was brave and fearless. Not once had she cried, for she was too strong too. Her emotions were always collected within her, unlike Blake who would cry when the lights would go off or when her nightmares chased away her sleep. If her beautiful mother was crying, then what? Blake was nothing and the mask she wore slipped before she could realize it had.

Blake fell into her arms, the preteen sobbing. Her mother pulled her closer, running her hand through her hair.

"I need you to promise me, daughter. I need you to promise."

Teary amber eyes looked at their mother with sadness. An ocean of sadness rocked her little ship and even Kali had become emotional.

"Yes, mother?" Sincerity filled her weak voice, her brave facade faltering. "What is it, mother?"

"Be strong." Her mother held her hands, ears twitching. "Be brave. Live, whatever it takes, live. One day, we will be reunited- in this life or the next."

There was a pause before the preteen spoke up, voice wavering.

"I promise, mother. Forgive me, mother, for I have failed. As your pride, as your beauty, as your daughter. I have failed, mother, and it is at the cost of your emotions."

Kali shook her head, sighing.

"You never failed me, Blake. You never failed me once and you never will. Now, promise me one last thing; you'll grow and have a good life. When I see you again, you'll be thriving. Oh, and Blake, you will be happy and not troubled by life's sorrows! Promise me, daughter!"

"I promise, mother."

There was nothing left to speak between them. Her mother wiped her tears away and began to work on Blake's hair- her soft, dark curls that would frame her childlike face. Blake would watch in the mirror, the last time she could catch her reflection before _it_ happened. She focused on her ears, her feline features she so dearly cared for.

She wasn't an idiot. She was young, not very wise, but she knew what was awaiting her. She knew what would happen, even if her mother and father acted otherwise. She wasn't an idiot, she knew her fate.

In a matter of minutes as the moon rose to glory, she'd walk down a path of black roses. Her mother would kiss her goodbye and watch from afar. Her father would be awaiting her trial with a shining silver blade. In between, was tension and rage, mixed with the fear Blake felt. There was also sadness, sadness from the man she loved for so long who would betray her in such a way.

The twelve-year-old finished her walk through the petals. She fell to her knees, her black dress forming a pool of darkness around her and swallowing the wooden floors.

"Forgive me, father, for I have failed."

 **FAILED**

The birth was long and bloody. It was an eternity for Ghira Belladonna, whose tired eyes were threatening to shut and abandon his wife in the process. The cries of an infant rocked him awake, bringing him back the energy he desperately needed. Before the nurses could stop him, he left the waiting room that had taken all of his patience and dove into the delivery room.

In the middle, his lover's chest rose and fell. She heaved for air, forehead gleaming with perspiration. In her arms rested a crying bundle of pink blankets. Blinking, he approached without the doubts fatherhood brought.

"Blake," Kali whispered. She barely had the power to pass her newborn to him, but somehow she had managed. She laughed, the sound sending his heart fluttering. "Her name is...is Blake."

"Blake?" Ghira hadn't thought about names. He had left that to the mother, after all, he admired her so much for being able to go through hours and hours of labor. He loved his wife and his child, no questions asked.

Sheepishly, he looked at the baby in his arms. It then dawned on him that he didn't even know how to carry a baby so small, so tiny, so fragile. The baby needed his protection and Ghira rocked it gently, shushing its cry.

Bright amber eyes greeted him and the baby cooed softly. This baby, Blake, his daughter, would be destined for greatness. She'd be a glorious leader, he knew, and at that moment, his heart swelled with pride.

"Blake," He noticed the pair of ears on her head and touched them gently. "You're a beauty. You'll do so much...and we'll never leave you."

 _"We promise."_

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm sorry. Blake's tale was the hardest to make. Earlier versions had her running away from the White Fang, but I scrapped that off. I also had an idea that Ruby would meet her in Blake's early years and manipulate her into joining Beacon etc etc, yet it didn't feel right. That was until I worked on this for over a month and just last night, while taking a break from my finals, I came up with the idea of Ilia and Adam being Blake's new family. There's still a lot to cover for Blake's backstory, as you'll see in Volume 1!

The Yellow trailer is next! One more chapter till Volume 1! Yang's is gonna be a wild, angsty ride! So be prepared for that, I'll try updating mid-June.


	4. Yellow Trailer

**_-x-_**

 ** _Yellow_**

 ** _-x-_**

 _"For pure good was too good and pure evil was too evil, being in between grey was just right."_

 **-x-**

 **FOR**

The existence of Yang Branwen had always been one hard to fathom. Everyone in the tribe was well aware of what had happened that late May day. The long, tiresome night where their leader cried and cried would forever haunt their minds. The darkness carried on for far too long. Then they remembered the serenity of silence- the lone cry of a newborn breaking its fragile aura.

Yang Branwen came to life with only a mother sauntered behind her each and every step. It was as if she had two shadows, one was her mother and one was the actual shadow! Her mother, though always fond of hard love, cared very deeply for Yang Branwen's safety. She cared so deeply that Yang Branwen had such odd rules to follow, such as not being allowed outside her tent unless her mother was there to watch. There was also the rule that never allowed her to leave the tribe's quarters.

Many had their own speculations about the young Branwen. Their future leader was definitely an odd one, for she lacked m in socializing skills. Their few interactions were extremely awkward. For a child, they had noticed she was rather solitary and preferred staying to herself. She didn't play like the other kids in the tribe who wrestled in mud or made houses out of sticks and dirt. Instead, the rare times their leader pulled out a chair and sat in front of her tent, the little girl only sat on the ground and read books!

Who on their tribe even read books? Who even _owned_ books? That was a waste of resources!

Indignation had sparked within the tribe members but had quickly hushed down the moment _the_ Raven Branwen narrowed her gleaming, crimson red eyes. Placing her hands on her hips and frowning, the leader scoffed and shook her head.

"Fools! We are at a time of actual peace within tribes and you care about a seven-year-old reading? What makes any of you confident enough to call out my parenting methods?!"

To say the least, the members had learned to keep their whispers of the strange girl to themselves. Aside from talk of her behavior, many had once spoken of the missing father.

When Raven had staggered into the camp, clutching her stomach and crying for help, she had been alone. No questions had been given so no answers had been received. All the fellow members who knew briefly (or could wing) the process of childbirth had helped. Raven had only said, "Her name is Yang," before passing out of exhaustion. No one dared question her about the father, and there was no family alive to care.

The next day, Raven was happily crowned tribe leader and Yang rested in a bundle of blankets.

Rumors of the father began only after the birth; tales of the father being an old teammate swirled the camp for weeks. Others said it was a fling gone wrong, and others swore it was probably someone they simply didn't know about. Whoever waltzed into the Branwen's life and left her pregnant was lucky to even be alive!

These stories died down after a few months. Out of respect for their brave leader, they decided enough was enough. Raven never cared for sleazy gossip, and so the members decided it was time to stop disrespecting her in such a manner. Her personal life was _her_ personal life, and Yang's father would forever be a mystery.

For the most part, Yang Branwen grew up hidden from their eyes. Many understood Raven's desire to keep her in the shadows, as low thieves and spies could run anywhere. When the baby in bundles turned into a baby crawling and then into a toddler running around the camp, they weren't as shocked as they thought they'd be.

They knew Raven was awfully strict. Yang Branwen was nourished knowing that- her mother could come off as cruel, but her intentions were good. Somehow, the age of seven came and Raven suddenly gave the girl slightly more liberty. In fact, the girl was all over the camp, it was a miracle!

As for Yang Branwen, the age of seven had marked something beyond magical.

"Yang, get up." Lilac eyes slid open, tired gaze attempting to focus on the poor lighting. "We'll be late."

She shot up, inhaling the sweet air of burnt wood and pine trees. The child stretched, eyeing her mother's worried face and nodding firmly. "Yes, mother."

Getting ready in the middle of the night hadn't been as difficult as she thought it would be. While she couldn't see, she had set her yellow dress near her. Slipping into her shoes, the child had already braided her hair, so she was good to go.

She followed her mother's footsteps and then in the darkness, she heard a _whoosh_. Feeling her mother wrap her arm around her, she was pulled into _whatever this was_.

The first thing she noticed was that the smell of pine trails and burnt wood was gone. The blonde opened her eyes, realizing the world around her was suddenly bright. She turned to see her mother next to her, clutching her weapon and scowling. In front of them were two men, one sitting in a glass desk with his lips pressed against a white mug and another sitting with elbows propped on the surface. They both looked at the pair curiously.

The room was odd. It smelled fresh and clean, something puzzling to her. It lacked any actual colors in its monotone scheme aside from the few hints of green she could catch.

Old man, as Yang's child brain nicknamed him, was the definition of elegance in her books. He was dressed in fine clothing, grey hair even suiting his color scheme. The other man, she saw, was rather looking quite rough. With a pause, Yang took a double-take before beaming.

"Uncle Qrow!"

Said Uncle only chuckled, opening his arms for Yang to fall into. She did, oblivious to the vibes her mother was radiating now. He ruffled her hair affectionately and Yang clung even tighter.

"Happy Birthday, kiddo."

Letting go, the child gasped. "You remembered?!"

"Of course I did, firecracker! I got you a lil something too, just don't tell your momma!" He winked and Yang giggled. Uncle Qrow tapped a neatly wrapped box next to him and placed a finger against his lips

"Please, he only remembered because I told him." Raven sighed, massaging her temples. She took a few steps towards the three and sat down on the chair next to Qrow. "Hello, Ozpin."

Old man Ozpin smiled warmly. He greeted the tribe leader and looked at Yang, congratulating her on another year. When it came to adults besides her mom and uncle, she easily became flustered and awkward. The blonde only said thank you and rushed into hiding behind her uncle's presence.

"Let's get straight to the point." Her mom insisted. "I don't need Yang sleeping until four in the afternoon."

"Relax, sister. I'm sure it does the kid good to get some fresh air."

"Please, as if you would know about-"

"As Raven has stated, let us get to the point." Ozpin interrupted, ignoring the tension between the siblings. Gesturing to Yang, he settled down his mug. "Are you sure of this, Raven?"

There was a pause. Raven emitted a sigh, leaning against the table. "Somewhat, I believe this can be beneficial, really. I won't always be there to protect her."

"Ironically, you always thought this was a curse."

"Don't test me, Qrow."

"Protecting her, my ass. All you wanna do is hide her from her dad-"

"Qrow. I advise you to stop, or else."

The younger of the two scoffed. He grumbled something under his breath, ignoring his twin and looking at Ozpin. "Why am I even here?"

Lilac peeked from her hiding spot. "My father?"

"See!" Her mother hissed, jumping from her seat. "All you do is make her ask questions of a man she doesn't need to know!"

"Well, that man is her father. He didn't leave you or her, you _left,_ Rae!"

"Raven, Qrow, please discuss your family issues outside these walls! We have more pressing matters to attend to!"

Yang stared at her uncle and blinked.

Her father? She had always wanted to know what had happened to that man. Her mom told her it was not important and that she needed to stop asking. The few times Raven let information slip only let her know two things; He was blond (though she guessed that herself) and he _left_. There was never a tidbit claiming Raven had left, it had always been her father who ran from responsibility. In fact, the tale was always accompanied with the traditional, "The tribe is your only family, Yang. There is no one out there who will be your family."

The twins mumbled in agreement. Ozpin looked at Yang and smiled once more.

"Your mother and uncle agree to allow me to bestow certain powers upon you. They both have this special ability, so they will properly guide you in your life. Do not abuse of it, Yang Branwen. I put great trust in your family."

"What powers? I...I don't even know what's going on..." She trailed off. "What's happening, mother?"

She felt her mother lightly ruffle her hair. Looking at her, the woman smiled gently.

"You're a brave kid. Do not fear, I will help you through this."

"Powers?!" Her mother's words offered no explanation. What on Remnant did that man mean? What powers? Were those the ones she read occasionally in fairytales? "What powers?"

"Yang," Ozpin stretched out his hand, waiting for Yang to give him hers. "My 'birthday gift' to you will be the power of flight."

The blonde took the hand skeptically, aware that both her uncle and mother were watching. They wouldn't put her in harm's way, would they?

"I need to hear you say it."

"Yes."

She took his hand without second thoughts. The thoughts only came when the pain blossomed in her chest.

 **THE**

A book of bird species and myths associated with them had been wrapped neatly in yellow and white. It was Uncle Qrow's gift for her seventh birthday, and Yang had read and read through the pages. The white book was big and thick, all of its pages bearing details and images of the birds.

"Yellow Warbler!" She cried a week after her surprise present from the Old Man. "Mom, I'm a Yellow Warbler!"

She raced through the tent to her mother's side, where Raven had stationed her afternoon tea. She was sitting down, drinking peacefully until her daughter came crashing in.

"Yang!" The pale woman snapped. "Don't be so loud!"

"Sorry!" Red tinted her cheeks. "Mom, look! I'm a Yellow Warbler!"

She shoved the book in her mother's face. Raven only rolled her eyes and took the book, reading over the text of the bird. Crimson stared at the image of the Yellow Warbler. She looked back at her daughter, nodding in agreement.

"I see."

"Well, you're a Raven and Uncle Qrow is a Crow! Yellow Warblers are yellow so I guess..."

"Mmhm." The woman brought the teacup to her pink lips. "I believe you are correct. Have you practiced transforming today?"

"No, mother. I was kinda hoping you could accompany me today." Yang fiddled with her thumbs. "Please?"

Raven thought long and hard about her decision. Shrugging, the woman answered, "I suppose it wouldn't affect my schedule."

The perk of being tribe leader was that no one asked her about her whereabouts. The perk of being the tribe leader's daughter was the aura of authority Yang had grown used to. While she was questioned sometimes, a reminder of her status was enough to shut them down.

Their current position for camps was near heavy forests. Thick blurs of green amounted to brown barks, white and orange flowers blossoming from the ground. Natural berries were also growing in small bushes. It was easy to get lost within the trees and nature itself, for the sky was a light blue with white clouds caressing it. The sun was out and shining, yet not too much for it to be hot like other days.

Mother and daughter ventured into the woods, embracing each other. Grimm were known to roam the area. Of course, Yang was not afraid. Her mother had her weapon and everything would be okay- like it always was.

They reached a small clearing where Raven leaned against a tree. With a flick of her wrist, she instructed her daughter to begin.

Yang inhaled and exhaled, butterflies (not birds!) forming in her stomach. She bit her bottom lip and replayed the images of her mother transforming into a raven. Oh! How simple she made it seem!

The blonde child began running, hesitantly launching at full speed. She closed her lilac eyes and ran even faster, heart beating. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and she jumped, conquering images of a Yellow Warbler in her mind.

Pain slipped into her system the moment she crashed into the ground. Groaning, Yang pulled herself upward and dusted off dirt from her clothing. She looked at her mother with great sadness.

"Try again, Yang."

So she did. The Branwen tried once more, aching to please her mother. She closed her eyes and thought of little yellow birds flying through the air. Picking up her speed, her steps became lighter as she jumped. The ground greeted her fall with a _thud!_

"Again, Yang."

Yang stood up and began. She imagined little birds building a nest; a makeshift family consisting of a Raven, a Crow, and an ugly Yellow Warble. Then the Crow shot up and left one night, never returning. The Raven assured he had been lost in the tranquility of the night sky, where the Yellow Warbler and her would soon join someday. The Raven would keep the ugly Yellow Warble alive, feeding her and giving her pieces of wisdom.

Her steps lightened and she was in the air. Squeezing her eyes to avoid her fall, she realized she was...flying! She was flying!

"Yang! You did it!" Raven exclaimed, watching with pride. As if on cue, the woman transformed into a Raven. The bird joined her daughter in sync, and they both began zig-zagging through the crisp air.

The Yellow Warbler didn't know _what_ she was feeling. Her mind was racing and all she was doing was out of pure instinct. The bird flapped her wings and chased her mother.

This was the first time she transformed! The very first time ever! She darted through trees and even _chirped_!

Raven landed on the ground as a human and Yang followed suit. The latter part had proven to be easier, even if the entire thing had taken a tow on her. She was suddenly exhausted out of nowhere. Stretching her arms, the girl smiled at her mom.

"I did it, mom! I transformed!"

Her mother laughed lightly, gently ruffling the girl's hair.

"I see, Yang. Work harder and it'll come naturally. Now, I believe we should have a special dinner to...celebrate this accomplishment." Raven smiled. "How does chocolate cake sound?"

"Amazing, mom!"

The duo walked back home, Yang hopping and skipping more than walking. Raven strolled casually through the dense forest, pleasantly listening to her daughter's chatter.

For now, they were safe. Nothing worried Raven except the, for now, part- a fact Yang Branwen would cope with eventually.

 **LOVE**

Practice required time and patience. Luckily for Yang, Raven was in the mood to offer lots of patience. Why? Honestly, her daughter had no clue. She didn't protest, though.

They'd practice transforming more often. As time swept, the blonde child developed her ability to fly. Transforming had become easier, and all she had to do was think of being a bird.

Flying was a newfound freedom. She enjoyed soaring through the crystal blue sky and zig-zagging through the green trees. It was also an aid to cure her boredom since she wasn't allowed to play with the other kids.

What had her mother meant when she said this gift was a curse? This was her best birthday gift ever!

Raven often took Yang out to fly. They did in the brisk of the morning because the girl loved flying across a canvas of orange and pink hues as the sun rose to shine once more. The Yellowbird could blend into the flock of birds, though Raven took a great dislike to it. She wasn't sure why exactly; maybe ravens just liked being alone?

Nights were still spent in her little tent, sheltered from the world. She'd sleep soundly, trusting that her mother would protect her. She was young, after all. She'd be protected, wouldn't she?

She was shaken awake by her mother- the same woman who detested the idea of Yang staying up after nine. Why had she been woken up on a Monday at exactly three a.m.? What was occurring?

Her first thought was that they were being attacked. Fear poured into her system and she shot up, putting on her slippers and grabbing her mother's hand.

It was her mother's eyes that scared her the most; crimson gleamed with fear and stared into lilac. She was in a defensive stance, though she could feel her emotions of insecurity radiating from her body.

"Yang," She whispered softly. "I have a mission for you."

"Mother, what do you mean...?"

"I...I need you to be brave. Fly with me, my little bird, for we must give someone bad news. I beg of you to not interfere or speak."

That sentence confused the child even more. What was the bad news?! Who were they seeking? What was going on and why was her mother so...afraid and nervous?

She turned a blind eye to her insecurities and nodded. "Yes, mother."

"Very well." Her mother closed her eyes, calming down. "Let's get going."

The duo stood and Raven made a portal to their destination. Yang stepped in, never hesitating. This was her mission, after all. She wouldn't- couldn't- let her mother down. No, she wouldn't let anyone in her tribe down.

Things were clearer on the other side. Yang jumped out, butterflies forming in her stomach. She observed her surroundings, gently playing with one of her curls to ease her worries. It was in the day, so she figured they were in another part of Remnant. Time-zones were a thing, after all. The air also felt more...chilly, in comparison to the sunny and warm Mistral she grew up in. Even the sun was hiding timidly in the clouds.

Raven marched forward. Yang followed, eyeing the dirt path with curiosity. There was a house- a house that her mom was walking towards, actually. It was brown and red and relatively normal, nothing like the tents she lived in. There were sunflowers and tulips that were planted outside the home as if in a way to beckon anyone forward. Sadly, the flowers were dying.

Once arriving at the brown door, her mom noticeably hesitated before knocking. She knocked again, then twice, then three times.

"Coming!"

The door opened and revealed a tall, muscular man. He was blond and had dark bags under his blue eyes. He turned, eyes widening in confusion at the figures standing in front of him.

"Rae?" The man asked. His gaze only then wandered to the girl next to the woman, and instantly his heart broke. "Is this my da-"

"Summer Rose is dead."

Silence fell between the three.

Her mother looked nervous, eyes wandering to the side and arms placed over her chest defensively. Yang blinked, watching as the seemingly calm man broke in front of her.

The man's clutched his chest, muttering, "No," over and over again. He held his head, tears welling up in his eyes. His voice began to rise and sobs racked his entire body, shouting, "Qrow!"

"Uncle Qrow...?" Yang whispered, her uncle showing up next to the stranger. "Uncle Qrow, I thought you were-"

"Raven!" Her uncle hissed. "What- what are you doing with Yang here!?"

"Summer Rose is dead." She repeated, biting her bottom lip. "Summer is gone and she's not coming back. That is all-"

"That is all!?" The stranger snapped. "You come here seven years after you left with your daughter and tell me my wife is dead? That is all?! You come here a second time to break me-"

"Tai," Uncle Qrow softly said. "You'll scare Ruby-"

"You left me before you even gave birth, Raven!" Taiyang shouted, ignoring her uncle's pleads. He took a step forward, anger coated in his face and an accusing finger pointing at her. "You left with my daughter and now you think you did some service by telling me my wife is dead?!"

Qrow had left by now. Raven had been calm before, but now she was furious.

"Do not question my choices!" She hissed, placing a protective arm in front of Yang. "Leave _my_ daughter from this!"

"She's my daughter, too, Raven." Taiyang pressed his palms against his eyes, tears rolling down his face.

The blonde had heard enough. She turned to her mother, heart beating as she questioned, "Is he...my dad?"

Raven looked at her and frowned. "Let's go."

Rage built up inside of her. This man, who was crying and grieving over his dead wife, was her dad?! Raven had always told her that he was the one who left, the one who left their lives for good! She never told her that it was her mom who took the decision to leave! All this time, all this time wasted thinking why her father had left her before being born was wasted. Her mother left, not her father.

Why lie? Why lie? Why did Raven Branwen have to lie?

Why leave? Why did they leave? Why did they have to leave?

Why, why, why?

For the first time in her life, her eyes flashed a violent shade of red.

"But is he my dad?" She cried, hands balled into fists. "Mom, is he my dad? Please! Tell me, is he really my dad? Why'd you leave? Why lie and say he left us?!"

"I said let's go, Yang."

"But mother!" Yang hissed one last time. "Why did you lie to me?"

"Yang, that is enough." With that, her mother turned into a bird and began flapping her wings wildly.

The girl looked at her father with such shame before transforming into a bird. She followed her mother into the blue sky and into a red portal, lungs aching and mind racing. She would never forget the face of the shattered man, the way he cried for his losses and the way he looked at her with sadness.

They return to their home in one piece, leaving the little, broken house with its bland and bleak colors behind. Words remained unspoken, Yang's expression hardening as she wandered into her tent. Raven trailed behind her, her own anger mirrored on her pale face.

"You broke the rule of your mission." Her mother scolded when the girl jumped onto her bed, removing her slippers. It was morning now, it was time to get up and face the world.

"And you lied, so I guess we're even." The words tumbled out of her mouth and she could no longer stop them. Lilac turned into red and she felt anger course through her veins. "You have me in this little bubble, mom. You lied about dad! What else have you lied about, mom? I want the truth, I need to leave this bubble!"

"A seven-year-old that wants to be treated as an adult?" Raven laughed. "Please, if you knew the horrors of the outside world-"

"Teach me then, mom! Let me see those horrors!"

Raven frowned. She shook her head, sighing and looking at her daughter with sheer disbelief. Her disbelief subsided and Yang only waited for her answer.

"Fine. No more being treated like a child, but you can no longer act as a child. You're in line to order our tribe!" She exclaimed, tossing her arms in the air for emphasis. "You are no longer to act like a child, Yang."

"And my father?" Yang questioned, crossing her arms.

"I'll explain everything, my little bird. Don't you worry about that."

The entire day was spent in the tent, Raven calmly spoke to Yang about their past. Yang sat in her lap as her mom brushed her hair, braiding blond strands and telling her of Taiyang Xiao Long- her father.

"He loved me, Yang. And he loved you." She chuckled lightly, the fire's flames forming shadows across her face. "Taiyang loved us both."

"Then why did you leave?"

There was a pause and Raven spoke, putting aside the hairbrush. Yang got up and sat to face her mom, head cocked and interest evident in her young face.

"At some point, I thought of leaving you with him. He came from a good family, I knew in my heart he would make an amazing father. Besides, he had Uncle Qrow and our friend, Summer Rose." Raven cupped her chin gently. "I'm glad I didn't leave you, though."

"Why couldn't we stay...?" That hadn't answered her questioned, though the discovery that her mom's initial plan was to abandon her appalled her.

"There are dangers, Yang. So many dangers that we would have faced in Patch. I left because this was what was right for both of us."

Her mother was a master at giving answers that were vague and not specific. Rather than pressing, Yang nodded.

"Who's Summer Rose?"

"My teammate in Beacon." Raven closed her eyes. "Taiyang's deceased wife. Your godmother. The mother of your half-sister, Ruby. My friend and now she's gone."

They spoke nothing more that day. They stayed together, comforted by each other's presences. Raven grieved with her child and Yang was left to process the past. She was there, soothing her mother's hurt soul while wondering what life could have been if Yang was abandoned with Taiyang. They were selfish and foolish thoughts that plagued her mind.

Life was good here. Life was hard and tough, yet pleasant and tranquil. There was strength in staying with the tribe, the tribe she'd bravely lead to glorious survival one day.

She didn't regret this life, but something stayed in her mind.

Who was Ruby?

 **OF**

"For your unspeakable crimes against our tribe, we here punish you with the death sentence." Raven's voice boomed across the camp. "Are there any last words you have? Speak now."

The preteen trembled, the sword in her sweaty hand gleaming in a teasing manner. She held her head up high, poising herself. Today was judgement day and this _animal_ would be murdered by the very sword in her hands. Today was the first day she'd execute someone, and the whole tribe had been brought together to witness this.

Today was the day she'd show herself as a leader. At least, that's what her mother said.

The animal said nothing. He bowed his head, refusing to meet Yang's eyes. Seconds passed and the tribe's leader began to address the crowd.

"Very well. Yang, if you may do the honors."

She felt like a wreck. Bile was forming in her throat and tears were in her eyes. She was shaking and terrified- she was taking a man's life, after all. Whatever crime he had done would not take the fact that this man was someone's son, someone's child. How could she kill someone with that mentality? How could justice be served in her hands when she was too terrified to make the first cut?

All eyes were on her, waiting for it to happen. She sensed their anticipation, their hunger, and thirst for what was right. But was this right? Was murdering this man right?

Even the criminal seemed to be waiting, hoping for his death to come soon. He looked at Yang, the freckles on his sickly pale skin greeting her.

"What? Don't you have it in you to kill, be a leader?" The man laughed and she swore she saw her mother glare daggers at her.

How dare he insult her!? She was literally considering his death to be unnecessary. Anger bubbled inside her heart, her eyes burning bright red and she raised the sword. The sword was brought down in one swift motion, blood staining its gleam.

The crowd stared in awe. She looked at Raven, who nodded and looked pleased. Then her gaze shifted down at the headless man and waves of nausea rolled in. The executer's head burned and she placed a hand on her mouth, racing off the makeshift stage.

Once out of the public's sight, Yang retched her insides. Tears rolled down her face and she sobbed, wiping her mouth clean as she stared into the dirt. Blood draped her shoes and Yang wanted nothing to remind her of the man she had just killed.

"Oh my, I just killed a man." The twelve-year-old whispered. "He's dead and I did it out of anger and-"

"Shh. You did fine, little one." She felt a hand on her neck, rubbing down to her back in hopes to calm the young girl. "You did fine, my little bird."

Yang trembled and tossed herself into her mom's arms, weeping into her chest. "Mom, is this what's right?"

"A leader takes hard decisions, my bird." She whispered, patting her back gently. "I remember my first execution. I was just like you, do not fret, little one. It is okay to mourn."

Her daughter did not react, sobbing instead. Raven was patient and listened, shutting her crimson eyes. "It's okay, little bird. You'll feel better soon."

Could she really feel better? She had killed a man, a living soul. She had killed him and he was dead. How was this any good? Did he even deserve such fate?

Yang felt troubled and lost. She knew this lied within her responsibility, as much as she hated to admit it.

She left her mother's arms and smiled. "Thank you."

The next execution came in a blink of an eye. As tradition had it, the Branwens properly punished criminals once every month. Because she was the youngest Branwen, the task fell heavy on her thin shoulders. The moment she was up in front of everyone with a sword in midair, it became easier. As each month passed, the easier it was to push the sword down, to ignore the blood and ignore nausea.

She wasn't losing her heart, she was gaining courage. She had been out of the bubble for five years and she was loving it. Sure, she had to mature, but who didn't? One had to grow up at some point or another. In retrospect, Yang was grateful for all her guardian was doing.

Yang could fly faster. She went undetected, rummaging through trees and fields. She had activated her aura by the age of eight; the blonde had accidentally cut herself playing _huntress_ with another tribe kid. The cut healed itself and Yang was in awe. Her semblance unlocked when she hit puberty, probably because her hormones were out of check.

Her anger issues and rebellious behavior (whatever that meant) gave Raven an occasional headache. Nothing made Raven overstress or make her want to ground Yang. It was teenage hormones, after all.

At the age of twelve, Yang Branwen was being trained. She fought with the tribe's leader and against the other preteens her age. Each day, she exercised and properly fed herself. She found a strength within herself and everything blossomed from there. She was growing, strong and tough.

How many preteens were executers? Not that many! Yang had grown to be proud of herself, even if it seemed like she shouldn't be from an outsider's perspective.

There were still many things she had to learn, of course. Her mother was attempting to teach her how to control her rage and when to use her semblance to properly attack. As Raven put it, Yang had to make sure she knew her opponent's strength. She could not act out of instinct or out of emotions.

In all, Yang was growing up to be a fine leader. She read books and enjoyed studying nature and its wonders. She doubted she'd ever travel, so books were a marvel to have nearby. That and Yang wasn't the most social being ever.

Night had fallen in the camps. Like usual, guards monitored outside. Yang always felt safe when Raven was near, not because of the guards. Those guards were morons at best. Tonight, though, her mother was off to look for another site. They'd get their little properties and move in the next month to avoid any raids from enemies. She went into the night, disguised as a little raven perked on neighboring trees.

"Yang,"

The blonde raised a brow, tilting her head and mouthing, "Yeah?" She placed her book down and sipped a cup of green tea.

"I'm off for the night." Raven explaining, adjusting her weapon in its place. "I'll be back before dawn."

"I don't like it when you leave." Yang frowned. "It's weird when you're gone."

"I know and I found a bodyguard. Don't worry, she's just as capable." The older of the two said, fingers brushing against her mask. "She'll be outside if you need her. Don't be afraid to speak to her- She's only a couple of years older than you."

With that, her mother was gone. The Branwen was left in her tent alone. Sighing, the preteen got up to see the girl on the other side, hoping she'd feel a lot safer.

Like Raven had said, there was a young woman standing watch. Yang couldn't see much and she decided to greet her bodyguard.

"Hello."

The young woman nodded in acknowledgment. "Hello, young Branwen. Do you need anything?"

"I just wanted to know who you are," Yang explained. "See, it's weird for mom to suddenly trust anyone and let-"

"The name's Vernal." The probably-still-a-teenager cut in. "I am very much capable of protecting myself and anyone around me if that is what you're assuming."

Heat rushed to her cheeks and she raised her hands in defense. "No! I didn't mean to offend you! I just wanted to get to know you a bit!"

Vernal blinked. She smiled cooly, bobbing her head again. "I understand."

"So, how long have you been in the tribe?" She asked casually, stepping closer to the girl. It wasn't every day she had a decent conversation with anyone that wasn't her mom.

"I was born into it, just like you."

"Really? I've never seen you before."

That was not a lie. Yang hadn't seen the girl during any of her flights. Maybe she was sheltered from others like she was? She figured other members did the same with her children if they didn't feel comfortable enough.

"Our tribe leader didn't let you out, Branwen."

"Oh," She felt embarrassed again. "Yeah."

They remained in silence. Lilac eyes took in the sight of the night sky, the stars embellishing its canvas of blues and purples. She held herself at peace with the world, at peace with it all.

"What do you plan to do, if I may ask?"

"Hmph?" Yang turned to the teenager. "What do you mean?"

"When you grow up and lead. Is your life certainly staying in the tribe?" The tone Vernal used sent shivers down her spine.

"Of course! The tribe is all I have!"

"Ah, I see." Vernal turned away, placing a hand on her hip. "You know, your mother went to Beacon. I was curious if you would be interested in such path."

Her mother going to Beacon Academy, one of the best combat schools in all of Remnant, was a fact very widely known. She had never really thought of it, actually. She always guessed she'd just stay in her lane and rule over the other members.

"My mother went for strength. I currently do not choose that path."

Did she though? Beacon was a weird idea to even consider. Besides, surviving without her mom and in a sea of strange people from backgrounds that weren't like hers? Yeah, she doubted it.

"You should rest, young Branwen." Vernal suddenly advised. "Your mother emphasized your sleep schedule."

She took that as her cue to leave. "Thank you, Vernal, for watching. I hope to see you around more often."

Yang entered the tent and slept, somewhat feeling safe with Vernal out there. Raven arrived before dawn, just as she promised. Yang was asleep and did not get to see her say goodbye to Vernal and enter the tent.

"Oh, little bird." Raven whispered, removing her shoes and stretching. She was drained and tired after a night of patrolling. Her brother's visit was only to inform him of Ozpin and the council and all the things she did not care about. It was awar that could not be won, and each time Qrow spoke of a maiden, Raven's blood went cold.

"I hope you're prepared for this future."

Because if Raven Branwen were to die tomorrow, she wasn't sure if she could keep her daughter out of her final thoughts.

 **RUBY**

Yang Branwen was fifteen and reading a book about humanism and the art of socializing, which was ironically in the sense that Yang detested socializing when Raven sauntered into the tent and dumped a box on her lap.

"Thanks, mom. You got me a gift." The blonde teased, inspecting the box carefully. "I love it."

"That's for Ruby Rose and you're going to deliver it." Her mother snapped, massaging her temples and pacing across the room. "There's a war between two tribes and the fools of our members want to help. Oh, and someone had the brilliant idea to start human trafficking in this damn campsite and I am not in the mood for moving!"

Vernal wandered into the tent, following her lead. She waved at Yang and waited for Raven to bark orders at her, given that their leader's mood was foul this early in the morning.

"The trafficking thing is going to piss off many," Vernal told Yang. "We specifically do not dabble in that business for many reasons."

"I know. Mother, need any help?" The blond asked politely. "I can handle the guy if you want."

Raven stopped pacing and nodded. "Yeah, help me by delivering that birthday present to Ruby Rose. I don't have time to give last wills to a kid I've never met."

Oh, no. She was not delivering anything to her half-sister. After all, she didn't even know the girl! Ruby Rose was someone that neither her or Raven knew a thing about!

"So, you would like for me to give a girl I don't know a gift?" Yang questioned again. "I'm not the delivery man, mom."

It was offensive to see her mother roll her eyes and wave her hand, opening a portal. Yang was about to protest when she saw Vernal mouth, "Shut up and go in."

Groaning, the teenager wandered into the portal.

She was outside of the same bland house she had visited when she was seven. Thankfully, Raven's portals never led Yang directly to the person. If she randomly appeared in Ruby Rose's room, how would she act? Gosh, did Ruby even know of her existence? That was something she'd have to ask Raven later on.

Yang hadn't even spoken to her dad! For her sake, she hoped Ruby at least knew she was a person so she could go in, say happy birthday and walk off.

Curiosity got the best of her and she opened the box. Fishing for a pen in her pocket, she was satisfied to find both that and the sticky notes she carried for her DIY bookmarks. She scribbled on the note, deciding to let Ruby know who she was. But then if Taiyang never told her, that would be awkward to explain.

Yang cursed and began writing the first thing that came to mind. If she could not talk, maybe she could write and get it over with.

 **Dear Ruby Rose,**

 **Happy birthday! Your mom loved you so, so much, she asked me to make you this!**

Wow, she was barely writing the second sentence and she was already lying. Technically, it was not a lie because this was her mom's last will. As for who made the gift, well, Yang could take that credit.

 **Anyway, hope you enjoy being thirteen!**

 **Love ya!**

She placed it inside the box and eyeing the cloak, sighed. She didn't even _know_ Ruby Rose, much less she would _love_ her. If they were sisters...No, her only family was her tribe and her mother. It was that simple.

Now to deliver the damn thing. Yang was on the doorstep, trembling. She knocked and before she knew what she was doing, she had turned into a bird and was watching from a distance.

 _"I can't do it."_ She thought. _"I don't know her."_

A girl walked out- a small, tiny thirteen-year-old. She had short, dark hair with red tips and a huge smile on her face. What stood out to Yang were her eyes; a shade of silver. Silver eyes were rare from what she had read in books!

For a second, she was about to close the door and shrug. Then the gift caught her eye and she scooped down to pick it up. The girl curiously looked around and went inside her home, closing the door shut.

 _"Well, I guess that's Ruby Rose."_

The yellow bird chirped and she flew off, praying her mother had remembered to make a portal to her home. She was not flying to Mistral for the gods' sake.

 **ROSE**

"Yang. My name's Yang Branwen."

Silver eyes met her own gaze and the girl cracked a smile. She grabbed her hand and shook it, proclaiming herself as Yang's worst fear came true.

"Ruby Rose."

She learned who Ruby Rose was in the span of a conversation of five minutes. The Girl in Red was fifteen, had a cookie obsession, and liked reading stories as well. She was from Patch (obviously, Yang already knew this) and came with her dad for some business in Beacon. Ruby had a dog and was very fast.

They spoke of family when they reached a coffee shop. Her half-sister was fond of it, claiming it was the best in Vale. Yang listened and chimed in occasionally, though it was hard to maintain so many lives in so little time.

"My dad and my mom divorced before I was born." Yang began, drinking hot coffee. "I don't have siblings. What about you?"

"Just a dad and an uncle. My mom kinda died early on." Ruby chirped, pushing a cookie inside her chocolate milkshake. "No siblings."

"No siblings?"

"Mhm. I've always wanted a sister, though."

Yang smiled sadly, nodding. Her heart hurt just a little and she didn't know why.

"I do, too."

* * *

 **a/n:** Finally done with the trailers! Anyways, V1 is officially beginning in two weeks time! Thank you for all the review/favs/follows! They motivate me to do more! Oh, and I know I didn't give Yang's weapon much exploration, but I will later on!


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